


Something Missing

by Nightfox



Category: Merlin - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Future Fic, Infidelity, M/M, Mindwiping, Mpreg, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-08-13
Updated: 2011-08-13
Packaged: 2017-10-22 13:06:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 24,647
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/238343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nightfox/pseuds/Nightfox
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gwen's left Arthur for Lancelot but before she goes, she dispells a 10 year old mystery...</p><p><i>Inspired by the song "Missing"</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story was inspired heavily by the Evanescence song "Missing"
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Merlin or any of the characters contained in here. I also don't own any of the lyrics to "Missing" (written by David Hodges, Amy Lee & Ben Moody) some of which appear in Part II. If you'd like to see the original lyrics they are available at any lyric site on the net. I personally prefer Metrolyrics since I've never gotten a virus while visiting them.
> 
> Pairings: Hmm...this is a bit tricky as it covers a 10 year span in a short time. There's Arthur/Merlin (past), Merlin/Gwaine(present), Arthur/Gwen (recently past) and Lancelot/Gwen (present) & one sided Gwen/Merlin(on-going)
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> **This was my first attempt at a multi-chaptered work. It was originally published at FF.net each chapter as it was written.**

My Dear Arthur,

By now I'm certain you'll have learned of my betrayal of you with your dear friend and my lover, Lancelot. We won't ever return and I beg you to not try and follow. I failed you as a Queen in every possible way but Lancelot is so much less at fault. He will already punish himself more severely than you ever could.

I won't insult you by asking for your forgiveness but I have further confessions of a deeper and more treacherous betrayal I did unto you years ago. I not only broke a heart, I broke the law and did you an injury that you've been barely conscious of. Truly, no awareness of it should have lingered but so great was the bond I tried to sever that a few elusive threads have dragged at the edges of your heart and soul nagging you with a blurred and nebulous confusion that I have always carefully distracted you from.

Much as I love Lancelot and much as I tried to love you, there was someone I fell in love with before either of you came into my life. However hard I tried though, he never felt more for me than a deep friendship. He was beautiful, both inside and out. Possessed of the most gentle, generous, self-sacrificing, loyal and courageous nature I've ever been privileged to know, he loved me like a sister but I never could stop longing for more. He however was in love with another, someone I could never have hoped to compete with even if every angel in heaven were at my back. It was _you_.

You don't remember him, I made sure of it. I took him away from you with magic. Through shamefully devious means I obtained a potion of oblivion and slipped it into your goblet at the celebration of our engagement. From that moment on Merlin ceased to exist in your mind, no memories, no awareness, no way for his name to penetrate your consciousness at all. At least that's what the sorceress who sold me the potion promised. However, I have seen you struggle over these past 10 years to remember. He is gone but there has lingered in you a sense of loss, a sense of something or someone missing. I've heard you whisper it to yourself. I suspect that it was Merlin's nature and the bond you'd had. He is an extremely powerful sorcerer in his own right. Perhaps if he hadn't already been hurting so badly from our pending union, he might have recognized the enchantment and broken it himself. As it was, the pain of your rejection was so great I doubt he could have seen the Great Dragon itself had it landed five feet in front of him.

You see, my King, you loved him back as passionately as he loved you. You were lovers and shared a bond the likes of which I've never seen. It went beyond mere love, as if your souls were united, as if you were two sides of the same coin. What you will remember is that there was massive pressure on you to marry and produce an heir the moment your father died. I know I wasn't chosen at random, that you felt an affection for me that you thought would be enough to create a successful union. At least successful enough to produce that heir. I knew you didn't love me, that your heart belonged to Merlin. The truth is, mine still did as well. That's why I said yes. I wasn't that interested in becoming Queen, in many ways it terrified me. However, what I wanted was to come between the two of you. I couldn't have him, I didn't want you to have him either. I'm not sure if you remember my only condition upon accepting your proposal. I said I would not tolerate sharing you with anyone. You agreed and broke with Merlin but he was still there, no longer your lover but still at your side.

Neither of you could hide your heartbreak very well. You still looked at him with love, longing and most annoyingly, hunger. I doubted you could possibly stay true to me and I couldn't stand the thought of you having him while I stood by and played the dutiful Queen. I knew even if you did keep your promise, you'd never stop longing for him, ever. You were both terrible at hiding your feelings and I was already feeling some of the pity from others. This, I would not tolerate. So I obliterated him from your mind, purged him from your heart and forced him from your soul. And though those confusing little torn edges remained, I succeeded. You no longer saw him, couldn't hear him and his name meant nothing to you in the mouths of others.

The blackest part of my soul rejoiced. You would never have him again. He would never have you again. My jealous heart held a sick joy in his heartbreak. He'd broken my heart and now I had broken his. Now it was his turn to watch the love of his life moon over another and be helpless to intervene. I knew him so well. Unlike me, he has a pure, loving soul. He'd never force himself on anyone in any way. He'd never use his magic to make you love him again. He just suffered in silence. He endured your indifference and oblivion for a month before he left. His old guardian Gaius had retired, his mother continued to live a country life. He confided in me that he felt he had no more ties left in Camelot save me (poor boy, he never suspected for a moment) Gwaine and Lancelot. He had thought you'd retain him at least in an advisory capacity because prior to your enchantment, that was the plan. Now that you'd cut him off, he felt these small ties were not enough to hold him. I was very sympathetic. I encouraged him to "protect himself and leave".

And so he's been gone for over 10 years now. You and I never did develop that love we'd hoped would come in time. How could it? Merlin still holds both our hearts. I would imagine you are now wondering why as I am going, I choose to leave these as my final words. It's guilt. My soul may be sullied beyond redemption but I still feel guilty for what I did to you both. I feel far less guilt for leaving with Lancelot because I know you don't truly love me. Your pride and perhaps self-esteem might suffer but your heart won't. I can't have the man I love. It seems I am barren and cannot provide you with the heirs you married me to obtain. I know that my life would be forfeit were I to stay here as cuckolding the King is a capital offense. That's why I beg you not to follow. Let us escape. Kill me by proclamation. Make it known that if I am seen in Camelot I am to suffer immediate execution thus making my legal death an actuality. Now you can find another Queen who will hopefully be able to bear you the heirs you need.

There is another reason for this confession. In my chambers, you will find two items inside the top drawer of my rosewood writing desk. One is a letter Merlin left on your bed the day he left. Of course I removed it but something compelled me to keep it. The seal remains untouched, I had not the heart to read it, nor to destroy it. The other is a small vial of fluid. This is the cure to break the enchantment of oblivion you have lived under for the last 10 years.

I leave it up to you if you want to remember Merlin for he has moved on. Interestingly enough he's made a family for himself with one of your former knights, Gwaine. I know you remember the day the knight asked to be released from your service so he could finally return to the lands that were his birthright, to retake his father's Kingdom from the Saxons. His real reason for leaving was Merlin, whom he'd long loved from afar. Like so many others, the sorcerer was already yours when they first met. He followed Merlin, unwilling to leave the sorcerer alone with his pain. Eventually with Merlin's help it wasn't difficult for him to retake Lothian and I know he has remained your loyal vassal to this day. Due to the curse I'd placed you under, you remained unaware of and disinterested in who King Gwaine married and who bore his children. Again, that is because it was Merlin. Long the talk of Albion that a King should marry a man, even if that man was the most powerful sorcerer in all the land, but for a man to actually bear 4 children has led most of the people to assume Merlin was really a woman long in disguise as a man.

The Lothian people know the truth and care not because Gwaine and Merlin have brought them nothing but peace and abundant prosperity. The Lothians adore their King's Consort. It seems there is no end to the love Merlin draws to himself. Merlin himself has never returned to Camelot but unknown to you he has remained a powerful and loyal ally and a hard truth to tell you is that were it not for his help, Albion might never have existed as it does now. His talents seem endless and his powers without limit. He has aided and protected you from afar for all these years.

Before you choose whether to continue in oblivion or to break my curse and know Merlin again you should be aware of this. You rejected him for me before I erased him from your mind. No one knows more of your courage than I do but I fear even you might not survive remembering Merlin with the knowledge that you will never have him again. Just look what it drove me to do and he never was mine as he was yours. My eternal shame is that I betrayed my love and my own nature from the spite born of not having him. I couldn't bear to stand by and watch your mutual love so I destroyed it. If nothing else will, this action alone will probably damn me more than any other because I still can't regret it.

I love Lancelot, I truly do. However I also know, I still love Merlin and always will. I give you the choice to continue with this shallow & confused distraction or to break the curse and absorb the eternal pain and joy that will come to you from the same memories. Whatever your choice, I am still leaving with the sincere hope that you find a new Queen and not let the Pendragon name slip from history.

Regretfully Never Yours,

Gwen

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As an American citizen born and bred (even if most of my ancestors came from Ireland & each of the countries that make up the UK.) I am at a distinct disadvantage in writing Celtic or Romano-Celtic British tales. However, since the BBC was kind enough to take the traditional Arthurian legend and throw it out the window when making the show "Merlin". I doubt any mistakes I make can be held against me.
> 
> Just in doing a little research (Wikipedia) on Sir Gawain for this tale (I was looking for where his father's lands could be believably situated). I stumbled upon this little tidbit:
> 
> "in an English romance entitled The Marriage of Syr Gawayne." " the knight is coupled with a woman who is either a fairy or the relation of a sorcerer. Thus, Gawain is connected in multiple myths to the Celtic concept of Other-world.[23]
> 
> It made me think, what if that chronicler got it slightly wrong and he wasn't married to the relation of a sorcerer but the sorcerer himself? Our Merlin? Yes I know, bloody impossible but so was half the crap they attributed to "history" back then. It's no less likely than being married to a fairy. Gotta love mythology and how it gets screwed up and confused the older it gets. That's of course thanks to people like us, who take dramatic license and let our imaginations run wild.
> 
> It was easier than I thought to find Gwaine's (Gawain's) father's lands considering in most tales he was the son of King Lot, ruler of Lothian & Orkney and Arthur's sister Anna/Morgause. His father did lose his lands to a Saxon invasion and although it was Arthur and Lot who regained the Kingdom, Gwaine & Merlin are close enough ;-)
> 
> [23] Weston, Jessie L Legend of Sir Gawain: Studies Upon it's original Scope and Significance , New York AMS 1972
> 
> pp.110-111


	2. Chapter 2

He sat at Gwen's rosewood desk with both the cure and the letter before him.  
They'd been in the top drawer just as her letter stated they would be. He picked  
up the small vial and held it in his hand. So small, it looked no bigger than a  
dram or two of shimmering golden fluid. How could so little liquid hold the key  
to breaking a curse that had suppressed his mind, heart and soul for over ten  
years? She had promised soul destroying pain and heart-lifting joy were both  
contained in this tiny bottle. Memories, awareness, a bond that remained  
unbroken by one, forgotten by the other, love, loss and betrayal all contained  
in the tiny fragile flask. How could it all fit in there?

He carefully lay the vial back on the desk's surface and reached for the  
parchment square. Sealed with a blob of red wax and marked only with a  
thumbprint that shimmered ever so slightly. The last letter from a jilted lover,  
sealed he suspected with sorcery so that only the addressee could break it. He  
turned it over and saw his name written in an unfamiliar hand. Looking closely  
he noted the ink also shimmered slightly. Was the ink also only visible to the  
addressee?

Laying the letter down beside the shimmering antidote he grimly noted that  
both were sealed with an almost identical red wax. Pendragon red. Both also  
shimmered with gold, the other color of the House of Pendragon. Should he unseal  
either? Should he read the letter and then decide? Should he break the curse and  
then truly feel the emotions expressed by the words inside that sealed square of  
animal skin?

The sun was setting, blazing golden light filled the room of the absent  
Queen. He would grant her last request and let her go, though her life would be  
forfeit should she ever place so much as a toe over Camelot's border again. The  
proclamation was being read now, he could hear the town criers calling out Gwen  
and Lancelot's crimes against King and Country. The pair were to be offered no  
aid, every hand turned against them. Any citizen caught offering succor would  
suffer the same fate as the traitorous lovers.

He'd been murderously furious at her betrayal until he'd read her final  
letter to him. Now the fury had fled and he was left feeling hollow and  
frightened. He was used to the hollowness, he couldn't remember a time when he  
hadn't felt it. The fear was new. Both items in front of him promised an end to  
the hollowness but offered only pain in return. Which was better? Did he want to  
feel again? He was sure that sometime in his past he'd felt things. According to  
Gwen's letter, still clutched tightly in his fist, he'd felt a great deal. She  
was right about at least one thing, he had always had this sense of something or  
someone missing from his life. In the past either Gwen had distracted him or  
he'd shaken it off putting it down to the loss of his father or the fact that  
he'd never known his mother. Neither answer seemed right but he couldn't focus  
clearly enough to understand why. Now he knew.

He kept her letter clutched tightly in his hand for it was the only thing  
that kept him focused on the two items on the otherwise bare desk. As soon as he  
let that bit of parchment leave his fingers, he couldn't see or remember the  
precious items in front of him. The curse was still holding on strongly.

He ran a restless hand through hair that shone as gold as when he was a  
youth. At 35 it was long since that youth but his age wasn't showing yet.  
Royalty usually outlasted the general populace. Access to abundant food, warm  
clothing and the finest medical help available did tend to extend one's life  
beyond that of the ordinary citizen. He still trained regularly with his knights  
and had lost none of his strength or stamina. His people considered him a  
Warrior King. They felt safe with him, his knights and his loyal army to protect  
them from the Saxon threat. He had excellent advisers who felt secure enough to  
caution as well as advise him when they felt it was warranted. Those who sat at  
the round table took it's symbolism to heart. While none of them felt equal to  
the King, they felt equal to each other and knew their ruler valued each of them  
for their individual strengths and talents.

Fear was not an emotion he was often acquainted with. He was not comfortable  
with it roiling in his belly, sending hot lead through his veins even as his  
core felt frozen over. His heart was thumping so fast and so hard it threatened  
to burst through his chest. His hands trembled. He could not honestly remember a  
time since he became King that his hands had trembled for any reason.

Making a decision he reached for the letter and broke the seal. His hands  
continued to tremble as he unfolded the parchment square and smoothed it out on  
the desk before him. With a deep, unsteady breath, he forced his eyes to the  
letters that seemed to almost stand up on the page, as if they weren't written  
in ink but formed of their own substance, sculpted almost like clay and  
impossible to ignore now that his eyes acknowledged them.

 _My Dearest Arthur,_

 _Please, please forgive me, but I won't be home again. This last month  
you've made it clear that I am to play no further part in your life. Maybe  
someday you'll look up and barely conscious you'll say to no one "Isn't  
something missing?"_

 _You won't cry for my absence, I know. You forgot me long ago. Am I that  
unimportant? Am I so insignificant? I know I'm just a servant but still, isn't  
something missing? Isn't some part of you missing me?_

 _It seems I'm the sacrifice, you won't try for me, not now. Though I'd die  
to know you love me, I'm all alone. You said you'd love me no matter what but I  
can see those were just words. Gwen is all you see and all I see is you. Without  
you, there is nothing here for me. There isn't anyone missing me._

 _Please, please forgive me but I won't be home again. I promised you I'd  
serve you until the day I died and I will. I always will but it won't be at your  
side anymore. I know what you do to yourself and I won't watch. But it seems you  
won't be missing anything, you won't be missing me._

 _And if I bleed, I'll bleed knowing you don't care. And if I sleep just to  
dream of you, I'll wake without you there. I'll breathe deep and cry out, "Isn't  
something missing? Isn't someone missing me?"_

 _You've made your "sacrifice" and you won't try for me, not now. I would  
die to know you loved me but now I'm all alone._

 _Isn't something missing? Aren't you missing me?_

 **_Merlin_ **

Arthur sat back and could feel the pain radiating from the parchment. He  
still couldn't remember Merlin but clearly Gwen wasn't exaggerating the depth of  
feeling Merlin had had for him. Had he truly felt the same passion for the young  
sorcerer? One line in the ten year old letter rang true, " _Maybe someday  
you'll look up and barely conscious you'll say to no one, 'Isn't something  
missing?" _He had whispered it to himself in his empty bed chamber standing  
in front of his wardrobe , by himself after long cabinet meetings, creeping  
along the forest floor on the hunt, riding into battle, even taking a simple  
bath. He'd felt an absence, a void, an empty place where he felt something  
should be. The feeling had been haunting him so long, he couldn't remember a  
time it wasn't there.

Now there was just the tiny vial of golden fluid between him and knowing when  
that time had been. Did he really want to know? If all Gwen had written were  
true, Merlin was lost to him forever. Did he really want to bring that kind of  
pain on himself? He wasn't sure what it felt like to really hurt emotionally.  
He'd been numb and empty for so long. He'd mourned his father's passing of  
course but they'd never been close and in some guilty way, he'd almost been  
relieved when Uther had passed on. He knew physical pain and did not fear it.  
However, he'd seen the looks on the faces of those suffering from deep emotional  
loss and it looked far harder to bear. Was he strong enough inside to endure the  
knowledge of the loss he'd suffered? Gwen may have made the final cut but  
apparently he'd been the one to make the first slices of severance. If he  
remembered it, then he'd also know that ultimately it was he who created the  
entire situation.

Just then he realized what a coward he truly was. Merlin had been left to  
suffer while he'd gotten away without so much as a wince until now. Gwen had  
admitted that Merlin was her target all along. She'd had them all fooled for so  
long. She'd seemed like the sweetest, most selfless person he could ever  
imagine. So demure, so seemingly shy and soft-spoken, no one had seen the viper  
that lay coiled in her chest. Arthur actually began to feel sorry for Lancelot.  
He had a strong feeling she'd wreck his life as well, all because he wasn't  
Merlin.

Arthur had never allowed himself to give in to cowardice before and he  
wouldn't start now. He reached for the stolen destiny contained in that tiny  
bottle. Carefully peeling back the protective wax seal, he uncorked the vial and  
took a very deep breath. Eyes closed, he carefully brought the drought to his  
lips and tipped it back.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There is a pronunciation guide at the bottom of this chapter for Gwaine & Merlin's children's names (and meanings if you're curious).

The small sip of golden fluid seemed to explode on Arthur's tongue as his mind, heart and soul were overwhelmed by a tidal wave of repressed memories and emotions. He fell to the floor shaking violently and stayed there for God knows how long. It felt like an eternity to the King. He remembered, he _remembered_! He hadn't expected it would be like this. He'd been so hollow and so empty for so long he hadn't the capacity to imagine what that small swallow of the shimmering potion could do to him. He thought he _might just_ die from all the emotion swelling and surging through him like a tidal wave. It felt like it would split him open from the inside out. It hurt, God how it hurt!

A name echoed louder and louder inside him _merlin, Merlin, MERLIN!_ He couldn't contain it, he began screaming Merlin's name aloud as he rolled around on the floor writhing with the anguish of his restored memories and emotions. Images, visions, sounds, and even scent memories assailed him. Most agonizing of all though, he could feel _his_ skin under Arthur's fingers, pressed against his own naked, sweat slicked flesh. He remembered Merlin's flavor on his tongue, that honey sweet, spicy flavor that only a creature of magic could possibly possess. His lover had always had an elusive, ephemeral scent to him as well. He never stank of sweat, smoke, ale or any of the other ordinary smells that clung to human skin. He'd always smelled of forests and herbs and that same addictive spiced honey was present in his scent as well as his flavor..

It was as if all the little torn edges and left-over strands that had so puzzled and confused him over the years were now shorn completely off. They didn't leave oblivion in their place but a raw gaping hole in his soul where Merlin used to be. All ten years of his lover's absence hit Arthur at once. It was too much. He screamed again, then passed out completely. He was laid out next to the delicate rosewood desk that had held Gwen's secrets for so long. That desk was so like her, pretty, delicate, elegant and so harmless looking while containing within it a dark, vicious and twisted secret. The means to bring a king to his knees and break him.

* * *

Almost 150 leagues away Arthur's distress tripped a signal in a ward that had been placed unknowingly around the High King. Within minutes Atlantic blue eyes were gazing down into a large, shallow silver bowl filled with the purest of crystalline water. Under that watchful sapphirine gaze, Arthur writhed on the floor of what appeared to be one of the Queen's chambers (if his memory was correct). There was no obvious reason visible for the blond man's anguish. He did not appear to be physically injured. He lay on the floor next to a small writing desk on which sat an open letter and what looked like wax broken from the small cork that lay next to the letter. Another piece of parchment was clenched in Arthur's left hand and a minuscule glass vial lay empty on the floor close to his open right hand. _The vial, I wonder what was in it?_

Unable to determine the source of the Warrior-King's ringing distress, the black haired sorcerer concentrated for a moment and reached out with his mind. The druid on the receiving end wasn't as good at projecting thoughts as she was at receiving them so the only response the warlock got was a vague "?". It was enough, she was listening.

"It's the King, something is wrong, I can't tell what but he is down on the floor in one of the Queen's chambers. He was screaming something a moment ago but I couldn't make it out. He looks unconscious now. Go to him immediately."

When he saw the Court Sorceress reach Arthur's side, he widened the scope of his scrying until he was above the city itself. He noted crowds gathering in clumps around the Criers in both the upper and lower towns. He concentrated on one of those knots of citizens to hear what news could possibly draw crowds of that size and intensity.

"...against the King. If ether the former Queen Guinevere or the former Knight, Lancelot are seen in Camelot after sunset tomorrow by any citizen, that citizen is legally bound to inform the nearest guard post or patrol or any other figure of Crown authority in the vicinity. Neither is to be offered succor or support of any kind. Any citizen caught lending aid to either of these outlaws shall be executed as well. Every hand is to be turned against them; every door is to be closed. From this moment hence both are declared legally dead in the country of Camelot. If either are found to return here, they are to be executed immediately so that their legal death will become an actuality.

He shifted focus again, back to the palace and Gwen's rooms. Mairead was with Arthur now, he seemed to have regained consciousness but was still on the floor curled in the fetal position both squares of parchment clenched in his fists. He seemed to be sobbing uncontrollably.

"Mairead!" He called to the druid with his mind. She looked up, as she knew that would be his vantage point. "Is this to do with the Queen's departure? Did she harm him further, after she was already gone? Was it a trap?"

The Court Sorceress looked frustrated by her inability to communicate directly with the more powerful warlock. She leaned down and grasped both of the King's wrists and shook them, then attempted to draw one or the other documents from his hands but he would not let go of either. She looked back up to where she knew those sapphire eyes were gazing down on her and simply shrugged. She made a hand signal indicating she would send a message to him later in the day when she had a better idea of what was wrong with Arthur.

"All right, I will leave him in your capable hands and wait for your investigation." He paused a moment,"Please take care of him...you know, I mean extra care."

The flame haired woman simply nodded and then returned her attention to the King, directing men to lift him gently from the floor. They bore their burden carefully from the room. Maired leaned down and picked up the tiny glass vial that lay abandoned on the floor and also the discarded cork and scraps of red wax from the desk top. As she turned to leave the room, she heard one more unnecessary instruction, "Please, I know I shouldn't say it but I must, please keep his collapse as close a secret as you can. Thank you."

The ivory-skinned warlock leaned away from the bowl and let out a loud sigh. _Poor Arthur, he gave up everything in return for nothing. Poor, proud, stubborn prat._

* * *

An hour later Merlin was settled in the middle of the huge Royal Bed, cuddling little Myfanwy in his arms, having just fed her when Gwaine burst into the room.

"She left Arthur, just disappeared with Lancelot in the middle of the night! Can you believe that?"

"I assume you're talking about Gwen?"

"Yes. Did you already know?"

The sorcerer-turned King-Consort of Lothian & Orkney simply nodded his head.

"How long have you known?"

"I sensed a great disturbance in my wards on the King and I scried both him and the whole city. It wasn't hard to put together, especially once the Criers began pronouncing it."

"Didn't think it important enough to tell me about it?"

"This is the first I've seen of you since I found out."

"Ah, sorry. It just came as a bit of a shock to me . She left two days ago, why were you just sensing the disturbance now?"

Merlin could read minds when he truly wanted to but he didn't need that particular power to see what was really bothering his husband. It wasn't shock, it was fear.

"I'm not sure why Arthur was so disturbed today as opposed to two days ago. Perhaps it was a case of delayed reaction," he paused for a moment, waiting patiently for Gwaine to meet his penetrating blue gaze, "You needn't worry, Love. I'll never leave you for him. Don't you know that by now?"

Gwaine's shoulders visibly drooped. His voice was low when he admitted, "I know that in my head but my heart still fears sometimes. You were so in love with him back then. I never in my wildest dreams thought you could love me like that. I've never felt worthy of it."

"Come here."

The former rogue came around their bed and climbed in beside Merlin and their youngest child. Merlin settled the lovely infant on the other side of his body and pulled Gwaine close and held him tight.

"You are far more than merely "worthy" of my love. It's me who's the lucky one. You've stood by my side and supported me through some of the most perilous and unhappy times of my life. You stayed with me when I was too blind to see you for the treasure that you are. You never said a word against me when I pined for someone who consistently treated me like an idiot even as he said he loved me. You came after me when he tossed me aside like picked over garbage. _Your_ love never wavered or cracked. You never reached for your own happiness at anyone else's expense. You never pressed any advantage. You patiently waited until the scales fell from my eyes of their own accord and finally I _saw_ you. After that, there was no going back for me, Gwaine. There never can be; I love you with all of my heart and soul. I just wish I'd figured that out a little sooner."

He sealed these words with a kiss so full of passion and devotion that the disquiet in Gwaine's heart dissipated and was gone. When they finally dragged their lips from each other's, Gwaine spoke.

"I believe you, Love and I understand that you still have a duty toward him. We both do. I swore an oath to be his loyal vassal and am bound to serve his needs as much as you are. To serve the needs of Albion. I'll do my best not to let my fears effect my actions. Just know that my first allegiance is to you and our children. Arthur may be High King and we may both be sworn to remain his faithful servants but I will never put him before you."

"Nor I, you. Yes, I still watch over him but it's been nothing more than duty for so many years now. He has nothing to offer me that I could ever want. I have you, the most wonderful man in all of Albion to love. You have given me 4 beautiful, talented, brilliant children. I have everything I've ever wanted right here. We still serve and always will but I promise you, it will never be to the detriment of our family." He kissed Gwaine again, just a gentle nip of his lower lip, "I am _not_ your father."

At that slight rebuke, Gwaine gave Merlin his rogue's smile. "Thank God for that or this marriage of ours would _really_ be breaking taboo! It's bad enough as it is!"

Merlin grinned and gave his husband one final hug before letting go and gathering their three month old daughter into his arms again.

"Do you think her eyes may be starting to turn brown?"

Gwaine peered at her tiny, lovely face.

"Nope, she's going to have your eyes too."

Merlin sighed, "I'd hoped at least _one_ of them would have your beautiful doe eyes."

"Oi! I do not have doe eyes. Only women have doe eyes!" His voice dropped low, husky and seductive before he said, "I have bedroom eyes." He stared up through long lashes at Merlin from where he reclined next to him on the bed. "And frankly, I don't want my _daughter_ inheriting them. She'll be much better off with your big blue, wide-eyed innocent look. Men will be vying with each other to be her protector. Just like the boys already are for Eirawen."

"She's only 6 years old! Shouldn't they still be at that "girls have cooties" stage?"

"Well, they should be but apparently your looks in feminine form begin to make even small girl-hating boys want to run out and slay dragons for her." Merlin couldn't help but smile at this.

"And it's not as if she encourages this behavior in any way...?"

It was now Gwaine's turn to laugh. "Oh no, not our girl. Just one more trait she picked up from you."

"Me? I've never done any such thing."

"No, you probably never did anything on purpose but it's true, Love. There is something about you that makes almost everyone who meets you want to step between you and danger." Gwaine reached up and traced a thumb across one high, prominent cheek bone. "It's certainly the first emotion you stirred in me. That's why I came to your aid that very first time." He paused, smiling as he remembered that epic tavern brawl. "Then, when I first saw you smile at me, I was a lost cause ever after. It's a trait that I'm glad our children have inherited. It will make all of Lothian wish to keep them safe and happy. What could be safer than to have a few thousand unofficial guardians?"

Merlin just shook his head at Gwaine's teasing. He didn't realize it wasn't teasing at all, that every word of it was true. All four of their children had inherited Merlin's huge sapphire eyes and high, prominent cheekbones. Otherwise, their eldest, Cynferth looked mostly like Gwaine, his coloring, his huskier build. He was only eight years old but each day that passed saw him looking more and more like his father, the King. The other three, even baby Myfanwy, were the image of Merlin. At least the girls seemed to have avoided inheriting his ridiculous ears but their second son, Ianto, even at the tender age of three was already developing what would likely turn out to be the same out-sized ears Merlin had sported his whole life.

They'd named little Eirawen for her lovely coloring. Even as he acknowledged that she looked "a bit" like him, Merlin thought she would grow up into a girl of such beauty it would be difficult to keep the wolves at bay. Good God, he thought he'd at least have a few more years before the boys began to queue for her attention but it looked like she was as much an early bloomer in this respect as she was in every other. All of their children were born with magic, just like Merlin. However, even two years younger than Cynferth she was already outstripping him in power and ability. It certainly made the young prince grind his teeth in irritation every time she bested him with magic. The boy certainly had more than enough power and talent of his own to guarantee he'd likely grow into the kind of King few other monarchs would dare to trifle with. However, their eldest child very obviously found it galling that his younger sibling _and a girl at that_ was more magically powerful than he was.

Life in the castle could have easily gone to chaos and mayhem with three (now four) magically gifted children when both of their parents had heavy claims on their time. Like a blessing, they had been able to persuade three druids to give up their wandering way of life in the forests of Lothian (where they'd been welcomed with open arms by the restored King and his magical Consort) to come live in the castle and undertake the education and oversight of each child. Eventually they would need to try and persuade yet another to come forth and help with Myfanwy but for now, Merlin kept her with him at all times so as to keep her powers under control for her. He had done the same for the first year of each of their children's lives.

Merlin was pulled back to the present by Gwaine's next question.

"So how is Arthur taking it? You said you scried the situation when you felt the disturbance in his wards."

"Not well at all, I'm afraid. When I was able to focus on him, I found him laying curled up on the floor in her room sobbing his heart out. There was a letter clutched in his hand. Perhaps that was the cause for the delayed reaction. Perhaps he'd just received the missive from her. I don't really know, he wasn't speaking, just crying terribly."

The Lothian King frowned."I never would have thought she'd do something like that. She always seemed so...faithful and gentle."

"She is! Or at least she used to be. What do I know anymore though? She stopped answering any of my letters after our marriage. Never could figure out why."

Gwaine looked at Merlin, marveling at how he could still, even after all this time be so oblivious to his own powerful charisma. How he drew people to love him as easily as he drew breath into his lungs. The most powerful sorcerer in all of Albion and Gwaine still had to keep reminding him he wasn't responsible for keeping their chambers clean and overseeing all of Gwaine's personal effects himself. He still seemed to see himself as an insignificant servant and Gwaine had never been able to get him to see himself for the wondrous creature he was.

Sometimes he thought the man would still prefer to don the simple, coarse tunics and breeches he'd spent most of his life wearing. However, as consort to a King, even one as relaxed as Gwaine, he needed to dress the part. It had taken a few months before Merlin admitted that the finer clothes were "a bit softer and more comfortable against the skin". He was still the same sweet, humble man that Gwaine had fallen so hard for and for that the king thanked every star in the sky. Power and prestige had not corrupted _his_ beloved.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I picked Welsh names for Merlin and Gwaine's children for several reasons. One reason was that many of the earliest tales of Arthur came from Welsh myth and legend, another reason is that as I researched names, Gawain turned out to be of Welsh origin (at least according to my on-line research). As I mentioned in the AN at the bottom of Part I, originally Gawain's mother was Arthur's sister, so that would make him half Welsh (while we are assuming for the purpose of this story Arthur & Camelot were situated somewhere in Wales). I also ran across Merlyn as a unisex Welsh name meaning "sea fort". Spelled with an "i" instead of a "y" you get the name of the smallest bird in the hawk family. I've stuck to the spelling used in the TV show, as I have with Gwaine and Gwen's names as well. Anyway, I digress. Here is a pronunciation guide for each child's name and the name's meaning as well. If any of these are incorrect, I apologize in advance, I was using a list of Welsh baby names.
> 
> Cynferth (KIN verth) meaning "Beautiful Chief" (age 8)
> 
> Eirawen (EYE rah wen) meaning "Snow White" (age 6)
> 
> Ianto* (YAN toe) meaning "God is Gracious" (age 3)
> 
> Myfanwy (mihVAN wee) meaning "My Little Lovely One" (age 3 months)
> 
> * I will admit to being a Torchwood fan and thus slipped this one name in here as a tribute to a lost and beloved character from that show. It _is_ a Welsh name so don't judge me too harshly for it ;-)
> 
> * * *


	4. Chapter 4

Arthur remained in bed for 2 days after he'd been gently deposited there by 4 footmen who'd been sworn (and voluntarily magically bound) to silence. Mairead, the Court Sorcerer had done her best to get the King to reveal the source of his distress but he just kept shaking his head and asked to be left alone. The Court Physician, Aeson, had been and gone stating there was nothing _physically_ wrong with their monarch but he was definitely experiencing some "severe emotional disturbance, probably a delayed reaction to the Queen's betrayal".

Mairead was less certain of this explanation. She'd been present when the former Queen's initial message had been delivered to the King. He had sighed and seemed saddened but not at all surprised. She was convinced what was ailing Arthur now had to do with either one of the parchment missives the King continued to jealously guard, keeping them on his person at all times or the tiny glass vessel she'd found near the collapsed King.

The lovely Druid was finding herself pulled in a dozen directions attempting to keep the kingdom running smoothly, quashing rumors that the King was deathly ill or had gone insane with grief (which was sadly closer to the truth) or indeed was dead at his own hand or from an apoplexy or any of a dozen other gruesome rumors. Aeson had been helpful in keeping the counsel satisfied that, yes the King was ill but with rest would recover shortly. He had assured them it was an illness that sleep and his remedies would cure given some time. Mairead was grateful for his assistance and silence. In the meantime she was shouldering the majority of Arthur's usual responsibilities as they no longer had a Queen to help in the King's absence. She also needed desperately to analyze what had been in that innocuous looking glass bottle but hadn't been able to find a moment to examine it very closely.

Aeson had already performed tests on it and found the traces of the substance within it to be "neither of medicinal nor of baleful nature and so were therefore most likely magical in essence". Which left it to Mairead to attempt to analyze what minuscule dregs were left behind in the tiny vessel. She was more than competent at her work but potions weren't her strong suit and she knew it. With Albion's most powerful warlock pestering her for answers every few hours she was tempted to tell Merlin that if he wanted to know what was in that bottle so badly, he should do the damn job himself!

Finally on the third day after the King's collapse, he summoned Mairead to him. Since this was the first request of any kind Arthur had made in days, the Druid made haste to his chambers to attend to him. Upon arrival at his bedside, she found herself nearly knocked sideways by the King's stark request.

"I want to see Merlin. Please send word."

As far as she or anyone else had known, Emrys' name hadn't passed the King's lips in over a decade. Despite the fact that he was the King-Consort of Lothian and Orkney and Mairead held the title "Court Sorcerer of Camelot" everyone knew it was Merlin who was in charge of the magical safety of all of Albion. No one knew what had caused the break between the now High King and the most powerful sorcerer the realm. All anyone knew is that one day they were inseparable companions and the next the King refused to acknowledge the other's existence in any way.

Shortly after that, Emrys had left Camelot and had never returned. He'd continued to support and protect Arthur from afar. He'd sent his soul and his power to fight beside the man who no longer recognized his presence but had never physically manifested in Arthur's vicinity in all that time. Nor had the King ever requested he do so. It had been as if the King wasn't aware that Merlin even existed anymore.

"I'll send the message Sire but I cannot guarantee his compliance. He's not set foot in Camelot in...well...quite some time and he's recently given birth to his fourth child and is known to be loathe to leave any of his children in their first year."

"Please, just send the message Mairead."

She nodded and left immediately, musing over Arthur's behavior. She had noted the way the King flinched when she mentioned Merlin's child and wondered at it. She herself had only once met the famous Emrys in the flesh. When the ban on magic had been lifted after Arthur's ascension to his father's throne, the counsel had assumed that Merlin was the obvious choice to fill the reinstated position of "Court Sorcerer". However, when his name was mentioned in Arthur's hearing, it was as if the King had gone temporarily deaf. They had turned to Merlin himself shortly before his famous departure and asked for his guidance. He'd promised to find and send a suitable person for the job as soon as he was able.

He had tracked down the Druids and explained the situation. He assessed several of their most gifted practitioners and had requested that it be Mairead who would go to the court and take up the burden of Court Sorcerer. He'd made it clear to them that the Druids were the only sorcerers in the land that he trusted. He'd also made it clear to Mairead that it would be a demanding job and a heavy burden. He'd not demanded or coerced her in any way, he'd merely emphasized how important it was to the future of all magical practitioners that someone powerful and incorruptible oversee the welfare of the kingdom.

It had taken her several days to make the decision to give up the Druidic way of life and become a courtier and not just any courtier but the highest authority over all things magical and sorcerous in the kingdom of Camelot. Emrys hadn't understated the burden of her new position and there had been many times she'd contemplated quitting but she'd stuck it out. Now over ten years later, she had the knowledge that she had helped shape the future of not just Camelot but that of all of Albion. She had remained uncorrupted by power and continued to consider Merlin her superior, answering directly to him, even over the King himself.

However, now, how to phrase the request that Emrys come to Camelot to see the man who'd ceased to even _see_ or _hear_ him for over a decade. She had no idea what to expect once the request was made but she forged ahead in this as she had in every other challenge thrown her way over the years.

* * *

Merlin listened to the glowing spark hovering exactly at eye level just a foot away from his face. Mairead's voice spoke,

"The King wants to see you. Specifically you, he actually used your name. If you want the exact quote, he said, 'I want to see Merlin. Please send word.' I didn't know how you'd feel about coming to Camelot and I as ever, remain in ignorance as to the cause of the break between you so I did remind him that you haven't actually set foot in Camelot itself for over a decade. Therefore I couldn't guarantee your response to such a summons. He just asked me to send the message and refused to say any more.

He still hasn't explained what happened to him the other day, he hasn't stirred from his bed since we moved him there and no, I still haven't had the opportunity to analyze what was in that vial. You _know_ potions aren't my strong suit. Do you think I ought to find a potions expert and keep them on retainer? I don't like having a weak spot in our defenses.

Anyway, I await your response to both his request and my own dilemma as soon as you are able to give them. As ever, I remain your faithful proxy here at court. Oh and give the little ones my love!"

The talking spark winked out at that point and Merlin took the seat next to Myfanwy's cradle which had been gently rocking back and forth of it's own volition. He looked down at his youngest daughter's tiny sleeping face and contemplated his options.

He knew he could physically be in Camelot within minutes but it would then take him almost a full day to recover enough of his energy to make the return journey in the same manner. He could summon the Dragon and be there in a few hours. That method also had the advantage of being able to return just as quickly, though he'd have to listen to Kilgharrah bitch that he wasn't a horse, probably the whole way there and back. He could also settle for just sending his shade there, leaving his body behind in Lothian. Goodness knew he'd become very adept at that over the years. It was also somewhat draining but not nearly as bad as physically transporting himself over that distance. He didn't even consider the more mundane methods of transport, horse or sail.

Whatever method of travel he chose, he wouldn't be going anywhere without discussing it with Gwaine first. He'd certainly not go running off to see a former lover, no matter if he _was_ the High King, without consulting with and reassuring his husband that he wasn't abandoning him. Then there were the children to consider. He was extremely reluctant to go anywhere without Myfanwys although he knew that between Gwaine and their three Druid nannies, she'd be in loving and capable hands. He just couldn't stand to miss a moment of his children's first year or so of life. Milestones happened so fast that a few hours away could mean you missed something monumental in their development. These milestones seemed to come even quicker when it came to children gifted with powerful magic. Gathering Myfanwys up and settling her in a carry-basket, he set out to find his husband and see what he thought of the situation.

* * *

Arthur, Warrior and High King of a united Albion stayed curled up in his bed like an adolescent girl nursing her first heartbreak while awaiting Mairead's answer to his request to see Merlin. Her shock at his words had been obvious and he knew her sharp eyes hadn't missed his flinch when she mentioned Merlin's baby. He'd been spending the last three days just running over all that he'd had and all he could have had with Merlin had he not been so blinkered over appearances. A final bitter legacy from his father, Uther. And like Uther, he'd wound up alone, without even an heir to show for it. Ironically, he'd stayed faithful to Gwen so there wasn't even a royal bastard to pass his legacy on to.

It certainly didn't escape his attention that had he listened to Merlin for once, it could have been _his_ fourth child the sorcerer was nurturing now. It wasn't a comfort to him that he hadn't made the same mistakes as his father, instead he'd managed to destroy his own life with a whole host of new mistakes, blunders and blind-stubborn stupidity. At first his rage had been directed at Gwen for taking Merlin away from him but the longer he thought about it, the less he could blame her. He _wouldn't_ have remained faithful, he knew that now. He'd been far too in love with the raven haired sorcerer to give him up for life. He knew damn well he'd have given in to temptation at some point.

Then his rage had focused on Gwaine. King Gwaine his _loyal_ vassal, who'd stolen Merlin's heart from him and now had the love of the only person in the world who'd ever truly loved Arthur for his own sake. Merlin had loved _him,_ not who he was, what he was or what he could do for him, he'd simply loved Arthur the man. He'd thought for a time that Gwen had loved him that way too. Then her indiscretions with Lancelot had become more and more obvious and he realized she'd always been in love with his First Knight. At the time, he'd wondered why she'd married him in the first place when she clearly hadn't gotten over the dark haired, devilishly handsome knight. It had never occurred to him that it wasn't _Lancelot_ she wasn't over, that it was Merlin she'd been pining for all these years. And judging from her last missive, was still pining for.

It seemed at least half of his nearest and dearest had all wanted Merlin for themselves. When he thought about it, he couldn't really blame Gwaine. He'd known that the displaced prince had fallen for Merlin more-or-less upon first laying eyes on him. However, he'd never made a move on the young sorcerer while he'd been Arthur's lover. Who could blame him for pursuing the warlock once Arthur had apparently tossed him aside? While Merlin was outwardly gorgeous, it was his inner beauty that really shone for all to see. His _goodness_ had always seemed to glow from him with an almost visible light. Had he been in Gwaine's shoes, he'd have done exactly the same thing. _I was such a fool, oh God!_

Though he lay in his Royal bed and brooded and hated the world, he could no longer deny that he, Arthur, was the only person he could or should hate for his losing Merlin. He'd been a selfish-bastard thinking he could marry Gwen but also keep Merlin by his side. Gwen may have been aiming to destroy Merlin when she purged him from Arthur's memory but she'd most likely done the warlock a great favor. Due to her actions, however painful at the time, Merlin had been able to move on and build a good life for himself with a good man, a loving family and a kingdom that adored him. Had she not acted thus, Merlin probably would have suffered a drawn out torture of his heart and soul by having to stand by and watch Arthur and Gwen together for all these years.

Still, Arthur needed to see him, needed to touch him just to know for certain the man was real and not the result of another one of Gwen's mind games. So he'd sent for his resident Druid. If anyone knew how to find Merlin fast, it would be Mairead. That had been hours ago now. She'd not returned with a response and it was worrying him. Had Merlin refused to come? Was she right now attempting to persuade him to return to Camelot? Damn it, he was the High King of all Albion. Merlin was duty bound to obey his commands! Gwaine certainly never had hesitated to serve, even after his marriage to Merlin.

A memory suddenly assailed him, Merlin standing by the outer door to his chamber, looking earnest and from Arthur's point of view, overly serious for the situation. _I'm happy to be your servant, til the day I die._ He knew now that his seemingly useless servant had meant to die that very day but at the time it seemed such a strange statement for him to make out of the blue. _You will be a great king but you must learn to listen_. Arthur never did learn that lesson, often to his cost. Apparently to his ultimate cost.

The High King of Albion turned back on his side and pulled the covers up over his head, whispering to himself, "Oh Merlin, where are you? I need you!"

* * *

"No, I don't want you going alone." Gwaine's first words when Merlin had explained the King's summons were not unexpected. Merlin sighed.

"Then who is going to look after the children?"

"You know damn well they have the best care and protection any child could ever hope for, Royalty or not."

"Yes but that's not the same thing as having a parent around and you know it."

"Fine, we'll take them with us."

Merlin's eyes widened at the suggestion. His jaw didn't drop but it was a near thing.

"That means going ahorse with half the damned household!"

"Hardly, it means you, me, the children and their care-givers."

The mage sat back and thought about it. It would take a minimum of 6 days if they pushed their best horses to the task. If they stuck with the baggage train, even longer.

"You really want to take all our little demons on a cross-country ride? You do realize it will take at least a week? I mean, I guess I could manage to magic the horses to go a bit faster but still, 3 to 4 days minimum."

"What, you mean the great and mighty Merlin can't simply snap his fingers and transport the family there in an instant?"

Merlin glared at his beloved for that comment and contemplated how Gwaine might look sporting a tail, or even a small horn in the middle of his forehead.

"I could, were it an emergency but I'd be useless to the world for several days after, so what would be the point? It wouldn't functionally answer the King's summons any faster."

"Alright, then magicked horses it is!" Gwaine said this like it was a brilliant plan with no possible downside or potential pitfalls.

"Myfanwys is a might small to make such a trip, don't you think?" Merlin asked anxiously, looking down at his "little lovely one" sleeping blissfully in her carry-basket.

"She'll be fine, there's no comfort _you_ can't spoil her with at the snap of those beautiful fingers of yours."

"What about bandits? Or Gods know, malevolent magical monsters do seem to be drawn to the power concentrated in our little family. Have you considered those risks?"

Gwaine looked at his husband with a wry twist to his lips. Slowly he shook his head back and forth. "Do you really think there is anything out there that could defeat you or them for that matter? As if you'd let a magical monster within 20 yards of one of our children. And as for bandits, I'd pity any one stupid enough to threaten this family. You'd blast them to dust where they stood!"

Merlin pouted a bit at this description of his protective instincts but couldn't argue with Gwaine's logic. He could and would blast anyone to atoms if they threatened his family. As a matter of fact he had on more than one occasion done just that but it was years ago when Cynferth and Eirawen had both been too small to remember it. He'd rather not be forced to do murder before their innocent young eyes now that the memories would surely stick with them.

"Alright, horseback it shall be. I just wish Kilgharrah were more cooperative. He'd take me and the boys but refuses any one else. Apparently it's beneath his dignity to provide transport."

"Can't say I blame him, you aren't the skinny runt you used to be you know."

"Runt? Did you just call me a runt?"

Gwaine began to back away cautiously, eyes widened, both hands raised submissively palm out toward Merlin as he spoke, "I would never call you a runt, my Love, you must have misheard me. I just meant you aren't as scrawny as you used to be...er.." realizing at that moment that "scrawny" probably wasn't the best substitute for "runt".

"Skinny and scrawny, I might have given you but I have never been a runt! I've got a good two inches on _you_ , damn it!"

The King lunged forward at that moment and wrapped the sorcerer in a bear hug. Whispering in his ear, "I just meant that you've filled out, Love. And oh Lord, it's in all the right places." As he spoke he was nibbling on his beloved's long white neck, hands stroking Merlin's spine in a way he knew could turn the powerful mage to putty in his hands.

It would be another several hours before Mairead received a reply to her message.

* * *


	5. Chapter 5

A few short hours after Merlin's arrival in Camelot, Arthur managed to pull the mage away while his husband Gwaine was distracted. Yanking him into a nearby ante-chamber he quickly pushed Merlin back up against the door while turning the key in the lock, keeping out the rest of the world. His mouth greedily sought the pouty pink lips he'd not tasted in over a decade. Both men groaned as tongues tangled and hands roamed, frantically reacquainting themselves with each other's bodies after such a long and torturous absence.

"I missed you so much!" Merlin groaned into Arthur's mouth.

"I need you, oh God, I need you now!" was Arthur's desperate response.

Somehow clothes were shed and suddenly they were skin to skin as they hadn't been in so many years. Arthur thrust his leg between Merlin's thighs and the mage quickly made room for him by widening his stance. Arthur reached between them and grasped his once and future lover's throbbing cock, reveling in the whimpers and moans escaping from those luscious lips. He made Merlin ready with his other hand, mouths never parting even as he bent his knees, nudging the tip of his manhood against the sorcerer's receptive opening. He thrust up smoothly, filling his lover with one long, easy movement.

Merlin groaned loudly in long forgotten ecstasy, throwing his head back, ignoring the pain as it impacted with the door behind him. All he could feel was Arthur, Arthur on his lips, Arthur's arms around him taking his weight, Arthur's waist between his thighs as he wrapped them around him, Arthur's firm abs rubbing against his own swollen cock, Arthur inside him, filling him as he hadn't been filled in far too long.

Long ecstatic minutes later, Arthur felt Merlin cum, his release spurting wetly between their already sweat slicked bodies. As he felt his lover clamp down around him with his release, Arthur felt his own seed rise and fountain deep inside his beloved's body, finally marking the mage as _his_ again. Both men cried out loudly and Arthur bit down on the junction between Merlin's neck and shoulder, rhythmically sucking on the spot as he felt the last pulses of his orgasm pumping copious amounts of semen into his lover's core. At last, Merlin was once again his and this time he would _never_ let him go.

* * *

Arthur woke crying out Merlin's name as he arched upward and soaked the sheet covering his naked body with his solitary release. He collapsed backward into the soft embrace of his lonely bed and had to fight back tears. The dream had seemed so real, he wanted it to be real, he ached for Merlin as if he was only half a man and the sorcerer was the only one who could make him whole. He rolled onto his side and faced the vast emptiness of the huge bed in which he lay. His head throbbed and his chest ached with regret. Merlin should have been the only one to ever have occupied that space. He knew that now, knew it now that it was too damn late.

Merlin was on his way, he knew that. Merlin was on the road even now as he lay in his bed, soaked in sweat and semen. Merlin was on his way to Camelot once again, however he wasn't returning the way he left. He'd walked out those gates alone, he would ride back through them surrounded by his husband and children. The thought was enough to pull forth the tears that the High King of Albion had been struggling not to cry.

Mairead had returned to him an agonizing six hours after he'd sent his demand to see Merlin. He knew the delay wasn't the fault of the Druid but would be due to the hesitation of his former lover. His gut had twisted in anxiety as the hours stretched out, sure that the sorcerer would refuse. Instead he'd gotten an affirmative response to his summons. Unfortunately there were more affirmatives than he would have preferred as he learned that the entire Royal Family of Lothian and Orkney would be attending to his Majesty's request for the King-Consort's presence.

According to Merlin's message, they should be arriving some time tomorrow. Arthur's guts remained twisted in a mix of anticipation, anxiety, joy and fear. He had no idea how Merlin would respond to him after all this time. His humblest hope was that they could at least renew the friendship that had been the core of their relationship from their first meeting. Arthur smiled wryly at that thought even as he amended it. _Almost_ from the beginning, remembering that their first few meetings had been anything but cordial.

Rising from his bed, he grabbed a nearby towel and wrapped it around his hips as he crossed his bedchamber and opened the window that overlooked the empty courtyard below. Soon, Merlin would be riding back into that courtyard and if Arthur could help it, he'd never ride back out without Arthur by his side.

* * *

Merlin could see the castle in the distance. It was the first time it had lain in his _actual_ eyesight since he'd left it after Arthur had abandoned him. The castle itself remained unchanged but the city around it had grown so much that if he hadn't regularly scried its image over the years he would have been certain they'd come to the wrong place.

Myfanwys was curled up against his chest, fast asleep in a sling he'd enchanted to remain still despite any jostling from his horse's motion. Though they rode the best palfreys money could buy, there was always _some_ rocking and shaking and he'd cushioned his infant daughter against such disturbances. Ianto rode in front of his Druid caregiver but both Cynferth and Eirawen had _insisted_ on their own mounts and Gwaine, tough as he was in battle and as unyielding as he could be at the negotiating table couldn't refuse _two_ pairs of wide sapphire eyes pleading with him at once. He'd caved and Merlin had teased him unmercifully for it.

"It's all well and good for you to make fun of me, it's _your_ eyes they are pleading with, damn it and you know I could never refuse you anything either."

He'd only given Gwaine a half-smile in response, remembering more than one instance when Gwaine had refused him. Granted, each occasion was one where the odds of Merlin's survival hadn't been stacked in his favor. However, it meant that he knew the King was capable of saying no to even the widest puppy-dog eyes he or his children could muster when it really mattered.

To his surprise, both children had managed most of the journey on their own, only needing to ride with their caretakers on a few occasions. Merlin refused to call the Druids who looked after his children "nannies" as he felt it not only demeaned the mages but it also was an inadequate description of their duties. Happily, there had been an unforeseen advantage to the King's indulgence in the form of two exhausted children at the end of each day. Children who were only too eager to bed down immediately following supper and sleep until the following dawn. Ianto was his usual sweet, sunny self and had given them not a moment's irritation and Myfanwys had alternately slept and played with the color of Merlin's hair for most of the three day ride. She'd gone through all of the colors occurring in the natural world before going on to turn his hair shades of color not previously seen in this particular universe. Now as they approached the city itself, he had changed his hair back to it's natural raven black.

They stopped less than half an hour's ride from the city gates to wash up and change into appropriately regal attire. Eirawen was delighted, Ianto was too young to care but Cynferth decided to throw a fit at being made to don formal clothes. It took a double stare down from both his parents before he settled down grumbling the entire time he was changing. Now instead of looking like a simple if prosperous family of travelers, there would be no doubt in any eye falling upon them that these were _Important_ _People_. The crown upon Gwaine's head and the slightly less ornate circlet upon Merlin's brow were just a bit of a give-away.

Soon enough they were passing through what used to be the lower town approaching the gates to Camelot castle itself. The city had grown so large that by now the once humble "lower town" was one of the grandest sections of the ever sprawling capital.

When their horses finally ambled into the inner courtyard of the castle, Gwaine, never one to hang on niceties, didn't bother to wait for the hovering attendants ready to help him dismount. He also slapped away the hands that reached for Merlin and helped his husband and baby daughter down from the gentle palfrey they rode with his own hands.

He allowed his older children and their caregivers to be assisted to dismount but he kept an eagle's eye on each one. When his family was safely gathered to him and Myfanwys had been carefully transferred to Cynferth's caregiver he and Merlin turned to greet the High King and his advisers gathered upon the white marble steps leading to the inner citadel. To no surprise of his, he noted Arthur's gaze was fixed solely on Merlin as if he was seeing a ghost. _Good, as far as_ Arthur _is concerned Merlin might as well be a ghost because it will be over my dead body that he's ever more than that to him again._

However, Gwaine, once so disdainful of the niceties of royal and noble behavior, was now well versed in the courtly arts. His disdain for them remained but he knew how to play the game well. Thus he made no outward display of the feelings of fierce protectiveness and jealousy that were clawing at his insides. Only he knew that his anxiety was causing his abdominal muscles to clench as tightly as if he were about to charge into battle against a great army.

Both parties moved forward to exchange formal greetings and Gwaine took great delight in introducing each of his beautiful children and his equally beautiful husband to those who'd not yet met them. He watched Arthur carefully out of the corner of his eye no matter to whom he was speaking and had noted both the winces and hungry looks the High King gave to both Merlin and his children. Finally he clasped arms with Arthur himself, bowing his crowned head in acknowledgment of his fealty then turned aside to Merlin.

Merlin merely bowed his head to Arthur and stated, "Here I stand, Sire. As you commanded." He made no move to touch Arthur and Gwaine could see the struggle taking place in Arthur not to reach out to the black clad sorcerer at his side. Gwaine breathed an internal sigh of relief that he saw no such signs from his husband, who treated Arthur as an acquaintance long since out of touch.

"Thank you both for coming and for allowing us all the pleasure of finally meeting your young family. I hope your stay here is a happy one."

The words were stilted and formal and seemed torn from an unwilling throat as the High King uttered them. Gwaine couldn't tell what Merlin was thinking or feeling at that moment, he was far too self-contained and relaxed, but he was doing an internal jig at the way things were progressing so far.

"You all must be famished after such a long ride. You'll be shown to your rooms and I hope after freshening up, you'll all join me for a light repast as supper will not be ready for some hours yet."

Again, both Gwaine and Merlin nodded to Arthur almost in unison and making sure to keep their children ahead of them, they followed the waiting attendants without a backward glance at Arthur from either.

* * *

Arthur felt his heart stop in his chest at his first glimpse of Merlin as the Royal family of Lothian rode through the gates to the courtyard. His view of his former lover was partially occluded when Gwaine swung his larger horse across Merlin's, mostly obscuring the sorcerer from his sight. He watched as Gwaine allowed no other hands but his own assist Merlin from his saddle. The black silk sling Merlin had been wearing was transferred to one of the Druids who'd ridden in with the family and Arthur realized with a jolt that it must be Merlin's baby girl, his youngest child. The two fussed with their three mobile children for a short moment before turning together to face him and the counsel waiting to greet them on the steps to the citadel.

He spared a glance for Gwaine and the children but his eyes were irresistibly drawn back to Merlin, drinking in the sight of the lover he'd not seen in over 10 years. What struck him first was that the sorcerer's face hadn't changed _at all,_ not a single day was evident on his still flawless ivory skin. It was a bit of a shock, he'd expected some evidence of aging on that exquisite face but there was none. He still looked about 18 years old, though Arthur knew him to be at least 31. His gaze wandered hungrily over the wide sapphire eyes, sharply prominent cheekbones and sweetly curved rose colored lips. There were other changes to be noted though. His glossy blue-black hair was longer, angling gently over the tops of his ears and curling almost to his shoulders behind them. Arthur sighed a bit as he'd always loved Merlin's overly prominent ears which were now mostly hidden.

A wide circlet of silver set with alternating ovals of faceted black onyx and round cabochons of moonstone encircled his head, set just above his forehead. He'd never seen Merlin in jewelry of any kind and with a pang in his heart he had to admit it suited him. His greedy gaze wandered over the rest of Merlin and noted his old friend had filled out quite a bit. Though still remaining slim, sleek and lithe, the extra muscle weight was instantly obvious to his trained eye. He wondered absently if Gwaine had been responsible for that and for the sword that swung from Merlin's hip. It looked anything but decorative. Clearly of the highest quality though of a lighter design than he himself had ever used. Still, there were obvious signs of wear on it and it rode the sorcerer's hip as if it had grown there.

Merlin was dressed entirely in black, trimmed with silver. The expensive silk velvet of his studded doublet was worn easily over a soft black tunic and breeches that looked to be made of the finest, softest doe-skin ever tanned. His jaw clenched slightly as he noted how well they clung to his former lover's thighs and sweetly curved arse. Merlin's only other jewelry was a large oval of flashing moonstone depended from a heavy silver chain around his neck, a silver signet ring on his right pinkie finger and a wide carved silver band on the ring finger of his left hand. Arthur had to fight the desire to grab Merlin's left hand and rip that ring right off it.

The black clothing served to emphasize the fine-grained, moon-pale skin that seemed to have defied the aging process somehow. Arthur wondered idly if it was a result of Merlin's magical nature (like the way his skin _always_ smelled of forests and herbs and spiced honey, just as his breath and lips and tongue _always_ tasted of that same spiced honey. The man had never suffered from "morning breath" and when he sweat, it merely intensified the intoxicating scent of his skin. In fact the only time he'd ever smelled bad was a time or two when he'd landed directly in a pile of horse-dung back in the old days when he was nothing more than Arthur's "clumsy idiot" of a manservant).

Arthur had noted all this in just the few moments it took _King_ Gwaine to introduce his children and Merlin to the rest of the counsel. He had to fight hard against the sour, ugly jealousy rising bitterly in his throat. Until he'd drunk that potion of Gwen's, he'd always been great friends with Gwaine. First when he'd intervened and saved Arthur's life the day they met, back when he thought Gwaine was nothing more than a hard-fighting commoner. They'd grown closer yet when Gwaine had become one of his knights and eventually when he'd admitted that he'd not been born a commoner but in fact was the son of a deposed King their friendship had bonded even more solidly. Having drunk Gwen's potion by then, he'd not made the connection between Gwaine's confession and subsequent request to leave (ostensibly to reclaim his father's kingdom) and Merlin's departure from the city just the day before.

It had been more than a year before he'd received the news that with the help of some sorcerer or other and the good will of the people of Lothian, that Gwaine had accomplished his quest and was now a King in his own right. Even before he'd won back the Isle of Orkney (which had also been part of his father's realm) he'd already sworn himself as a vassal to Arthur as High-King of Albion. Though they'd spent much less time together over the intervening years, Gwaine had never failed to come when Arthur called for his aid or counsel. He'd fulfilled all his vows with honor and it certainly wasn't _his_ fault that Arthur had forgotten Merlin. It was far from fair to feel this biting envy of his loyal friend. It was less than honorable that he intended to try and win Merlin back from him, right here and now under his very nose. It was downright disgusting that he still planned to try to wrest Merlin from Gwaine with their four young children looking on.

Shame scalded him but it couldn't burn as hot, as hard or as painfully as the need to have Merlin back in his arms. He forced out his greeting and invitation to freshen themselves before coming to break bread with him. It was another needle to the heart when both men nodded at him in unrehearsed unison and herded their children away with nary a backward glance his way. He saw how close they were, how they anticipated each other's every move, how they smoothly handled their children in unison and unity and how they even moved alike. That was another major change he now noted in Merlin. There wasn't a single hint of the awkward clumsiness that had so marked him during their own years together. His graceful ease of movement now matched the lithe elegance of his body. Perhaps that had come less from Gwaine's training and more from no longer trying to keep half of his soul and all of his heart hidden from the world. Whatever the cause, he realized that, impossible as it seemed, Merlin was even more beautiful now than he'd been when he'd belonged to Arthur. The knowledge was both a knife to the heart and another goad for him to make Merlin his own once again.

* * *

"You know he wants you back, don't you?" There was a definite edge to Gwaine's words as they washed the road dust from each other, sharing their bath as they so often did at home. One of their own servants (one they trusted to keep his mouth shut about overhead conversations) was brushing the same dust out of their attire as they spoke.

"He can want all he wants, Love. I'm not leaving you. I know you worry but really, you don't have to." He cupped one side of Gwaine's handsome face with long, elegant fingers. "I love him, I always will in a small corner of my heart but I'm not _in love_ with him, I haven't been for a very very long time. You _know_ I got over him ages ago, you were _there_." He leaned forward and pressed a soft, loving kiss to Gwaine's lips.

"He'll try to get you to fall for him again, I know him. I can see it in his eyes, he's desperate for you, Love. He's not going to let you go without a fight."

"He has no weapons to fight _with_ Gwaine. I love you so much, why can't you believe that? Yes, there was a time when he was the center of my world but that was so long ago and quite frankly, I don't miss it at all. He wasn't a very good partner you know. He _always_ treated me like a dirty little secret and he _never, ever_ put me before the other obligations in his life. His father, his position, his city, his desire to please his people, all that came before me. He let me know I came quite far down the list of priorities for him."

"I'm not the naive boy I was when first I came to Camelot you know. My relationship with Arthur was pretty toxic. Even after we became lovers, he still didn't treat me particularly well and never as his equal. Not even after he found out about my magic. Perhaps because he never really saw it in action but our relationship was everything _but_ balanced. To him I was still an idiot, an idiot with a dangerous secret at that. For him, loving me was a burden, one he'd have preferred to not shoulder. Now that he's the High King of Albion he may feel that he can crook his finger and I'll come running like I used to but I'm not that person any more. As a man, he can't hold a candle to you, my love."

Merlin smiled at his Gwaine, his King, his husband, his lover and his best friend. "You are everything he could never be and I love every tiny fiber that makes you, you. Gods know, I didn't deserve your love and loyalty, never mind your incredible patience. I'm just so sorry you had to stand by and watch all of that. I'm sorry for what that did to you, what it's still doing to you. However, I am eternally grateful that you waited for me. You were always there for me when I needed you, yet you never pressed any advantage. Do you know how rare that is? How amazing that makes you? I do and I will _never_ take you for granted, let alone abandon you for a man who is, deep down inside, still a selfish prat and always will be."

* * *

As the children had been included in the invitation to partake of the meal with Arthur, their three Druid caregivers came as well. They arrived before their parents did and the King found himself confronted with two exact copies of Merlin in miniature, as well as a third who still had enough of his sorcerous father's features to make Arthur squirm in regretful discomfort. Thankfully, the smallest one, Ianto (who incidentally looked the most like Merlin) seemed very shy and hid behind his older sister or the robes of his Druid minder. Thankfully Arthur had thought to ask Mairead and Aeson to also attend. The Physician and Druids naturally gathered together, taking it in turns to keep the children under observation at all times. It was still painful to look at the older children, especially the girl who looked exactly like the picture Arthur had created in his head years ago of what Merlin would have looked like had he been born female. No further need to wonder, she stood before him now, boldly pelting him with questions he felt ill equipped to handle.

Thankfully Mairead saw his plight and rescued him by wandering over and distracting the unnerving child. That left Arthur with Cynferth, Merlin's oldest off-spring and the one who looked least like him. The boy seemed to have inherited a bit of his father Gwaine's swaggering attitude along with his chocolate brown hair, heavier build and most of his facial features. Unfortunately he still had the same damned eyes. Merlin's unmistakable Atlantic blue eyes. However, his line of questioning was more suited to Arthur's comfort zone as he wanted to talk about fighting, battles, sword-craft and the nature of knighthood. All Arthur's areas of expertise.

Gwaine and Merlin did eventually arrive for the meal but they'd taken so long that there was no doubt in Arthur's mind what they'd been up to besides bathing. Images of the two, naked bodies entwined, making passionate love in _his_ castle, under _his own roof_ made the gorge rise in his throat and a jealous rage began to simmer hotly in his belly. He found it immensely difficult not to leap for Gwaine's throat the moment the two finally appeared, fingers loosely laced together as they wandered in looking relaxed and happy. Merlin actually glowed slightly with what Arthur could only assume was contentment. A contentment so deep that it even spilled out of him magically, the soft golden sheen was subtle but unmistakable. He couldn't stop the flash of covetous hatred that flashed across his face when he looked at Gwaine. The other King caught his eye in that moment and stared back challengingly. Eyes that were usually a deeply warm brown were suddenly hard, flat and inflexible.

Merlin's eyes had gone straight to his children but Gwaine's had immediately sought out Arthur. He was unsurprised by the emotion in that cold azure glare. Never breaking eye contact with his King, he brought Merlin's hand to his lips and pressed several light kisses to the long white fingers. The action caused Merlin to turn and smile dazzlingly at him while Arthur simultaneously turned puce with frustrated rage. Something puzzled Gwaine in that moment though. He and Merlin had been married for almost 9 years. They'd been together for almost two years prior to that and had never made a secret of it. They'd had four children together, each birth had been carefully recorded not only in Lothian but in the birth records of Camelot as well. Gwaine had seen to that personally each time. Why was it only now that Arthur looked at him with such venomous envy? He'd expected Arthur to try and win Merlin back but he hadn't expected the bitterness, the _hatred_ he could feel emanating toward him from the High King at that moment. Was it just because this was the first time he was seeing the two of them together or was it something else?

In the past, Arthur and Gwaine had gotten along famously. While Gwaine had spoken frequently of his children with pride and love, neither of them had ever spoken of the fact that Gwaine had married Arthur's discarded lover. Arthur never asked and Gwaine never volunteered. In the back of his mind, Gwaine had always feared that some day Arthur would come for Merlin, married or no. Having witnessed their intense bond first hand, Gwaine had dreaded that day. For deep in his heart he'd always felt that Merlin had merely _settled_ for him since he couldn't have his first choice, Arthur. Regardless of this fear, their marriage had grown in strength over the years, the shared joy of raising children and the experience of ruling a kingdom together had brought them closer and closer to each other.

As time passed the anxiety had all but disappeared until the day Gwaine had learned that Gwen had left Arthur. Terror had seized him in that moment. Despite their strong relationship, Gwaine still feared it wouldn't be enough to hold Merlin when Arthur finally came to reclaim him. Three days after the news had reached them, Arthur made his first move. He summoned Merlin. Gwaine had blocked this initial attack by insisting he and the children come with the sorcerer but he knew the battle for Merlin had just begun, no matter how many assurances his husband pressed on him. Merlin had told him that he would never take him for granted. Neither would Gwaine be complacent about his marriage. He was prepared for the fight and with the simple means of thoroughly making love to his husband, (being sure to leave a few love bites where they'd be noticed by one who was looking for them) he'd made his own first strike.

It was the most natural thing in the world for him to raise Merlin's fingers to his lips, it was something he did often but to do it while staring straight into Arthur's furious blue gaze was his way of acknowledging the fight and throwing the gauntlet down with clear intent. Merlin was _his_ no matter that he'd been Arthur's first; Gwaine vowed he would be Merlin's last.

* * *

 _And so it begins._ Arthur had been unable to mask his jealous rage when Gwaine had invidiously raised Merlin's fingers to his mouth, caressing the elegant appendages with possessive lips as he stared his challenge straight into Arthur's infuriated eyes. As if that hadn't been bad enough, Merlin had turned his glowing face to Gwaine and beamed that devastatingly loving smile that he'd once reserved for Arthur alone. The rage came from Gwaine's obviously territorial move. However, the way Merlin had looked at his rival before turning back to the children clamoring for his attention had felt like a kick in the chest from his most powerful destrier. Not once during that exchange had Merlin acknowledged Arthur's presence in the room. It had all happened in under a minute but for Arthur, the time had stretched, distorted into an agonizing eternity. _Was this what Merlin had felt when he'd had to watch me with Gwen after she'd slipped me that cursed potion? How had he been able to stand it for a whole month?_

In that moment had Gwen been before him, he'd have likely throttled her to death for what she'd done to him. In that moment he'd also have likely attacked Gwaine with mortal intent had he not been surrounded by Merlin, his four small children, five druids and the Court Physician. Had they been alone, he knew he'd have gone for his former friend. _Former friend._ The thought brought forth a small pang. _Just yesterday he was still my friend. He was my friend until the moment I saw him with his hands on_ my _Merlin. Now he can be nothing but an enemy._

While Merlin was still distracted by his disturbingly beautiful children with their achingly accurate resemblance to their sorcerous father, Arthur narrowed his eyes at their other father. His full lips tightened to a thin line and he nodded deliberately at him. Mutely he took up the silent gauntlet thrown down blatantly, if wordlessly by Merlin's husband. Gwaine had already discerned his dishonorable intentions and would not give way without an all out war for the Mage's heart.

The first skirmish had been won by the Lothian King but the High King of Albion hadn't united dozens of disparate tribes, city-states and small kingdoms with a faint heart or timid soul. He fought hard for what he wanted and right now, there was nothing on this earth he wanted more than Merlin, King-Consort of Lothian and Orkney,

* * *


	6. Chapter 6

Now that Merlin was here in front of him, looking like a young God to his eyes, he had no idea how to approach him. He decided for the moment to do nothing and simply watch. With the mage distracted by his gaggle of children, it would be impossible to discuss anything but the lightest of trivialities anyway. Soon after, every one was settled at a long intricately carved table with Gwaine to his right where Gwen had been seated for so many years. Merlin was on his left, where he _should_ have been sitting for all these years. He finally turned to Merlin and spoke directly to him for the first time in over a decade.

"So Merlin, you're looking well." _God, is that the best I can come up with?_

"Thank you Sire, I've been living within fortune's good graces, it seems. I _would_ like to express my condolences on your recent loss though. I _know_ it was a terrible blow."

 _He's learned all the courtier's arts, even his speech is different. He's so formal, is this really_ my _Merlin? Then again, he is consort to a King._ Arthur bit back a sigh.

"Perhaps but life moves on and I have a nation to rule."

"Indeed, life moves forward whether we like it or not." Merlin gave him a small lopsided smile. "However, I hope you won't despair for long, sometimes what seems like a tragedy can bring great gains in it's wake."

As the words left Merlin's lips, Arthur noted how those sapphire eyes flicked toward Gwaine who was chatting with Aeson, seated on his other side. To Merlin, the seating arrangement seemed a tad formal for what had been billed as an informal repast.

"Well, I hope some good will come from recent events. My eyes have finally been opened, that's a certainty."

It was the only hint of his intentions that he could give his former lover while seated between him and his husband. Arthur couldn't help but feel discomfited by the fact that Merlin had his baby daughter nestled against his chest, back in the silken sling she'd arrived in. She'd fallen asleep soon after being handed back to her father but the High King had still gotten a good enough look at the child to note that she too had the mage's cobalt eyes and looked like yet another miniature Merlin. He mused that she'd been named appropriately as she was a "lovely little one". Arthur suppressed a sigh as it crossed his mind for perhaps the thousandth time that this could have been, _should have been_ , one of his own children had he not been such a pig-headed fool all those years ago.

A clatter at the far end of the table drew everyone's gaze as one of the Druid minders returned a floating candelabra to the table and shot a warning gaze at an impishly grinning Eirawen. The girl's smile hit him like a blow to the solar-plexus. For a moment he ceased breathing as dozens of memories of Merlin smiling that exact smile flooded through his mind's eye.

He honestly didn't know whose idea it was to bring the children (though he suspected it was Gwaine's way of reminding him of just _how_ "taken" Merlin now was) but having all these small replicas of Merlin surrounding him was wearing his composure paper thin. It was pure torture not just because they looked so much like the love of his life but it hurt him with every giggle, every flash of a dark blue eye and every little mischievous grin that they weren't _his_ children.

He closed his eyes for a moment as he remembered a desperate Merlin pleading with him. _Please Arthur, don't do this. You don't have to marry her, you don't have to marry a woman just to have children. I'm a Dragon Lord,_ I _can give you children!_ Arthur had snapped back that he wouldn't lose Merlin the way his father had lost his mother to gain a magically conceived child. _It wouldn't be the same Arthur, I swear! It's not a spell, it's a natural ability of Dragon Lords! I don't need to_ perform _magic to have a child, I_ am _magic! It's not the same thing at all. You wouldn't lose me like that, I swear! Please, Arthur, please don't do this, I can't bear it!_ Arthur had countered with the statement that people, especially the uneducated peasants that made up the bulk of Camelot's population wouldn't ever accept a man as his consort, nor would they accept such unnatural children as successors to the throne. Merlin had visibly flinched at the word "unnatural". _So that's what I am to you, unnatural? Just a freak that fate foisted on you?_ Arthur, never good with words, had just dug his grave deeper and deeper with that conversation until Merlin had finally fled in floods of tears. Having made up his mind to marry Gwen even though he wasn't in love with her, he hadn't followed Merlin's flight. He didn't think there was anything he could say to make his lover feel any better about the situation. He would just have to live with it, as would Arthur. Camelot had to come first.

He recalled that the following morning he'd been awakened by Merlin's voice floating back through the door that was closing behind the mage as he left. The recently crowned King had sat up and looked around in confusion. Every chore that was normally assigned Merlin for the day had been completed (at least those involving his chambers). His clothing was laid out, his armour neatly hanging on it's rack, gleaming brightly and flashing in the sun streaming through the open window. It was quite apparent that Merlin had arrived early and using his magic had performed all of his daily tasks so that he could avoid the King's company. There was even a steaming hot breakfast waiting for him in it's usual place at the table. He peeked behind the bathing screen to find the tub was already filled and steaming in the cool morning air.

When he'd returned from his morning's training, he'd found the bath still a perfect temperature and it remained that way even after he'd finished bathing. After his bath, he'd found his clothes for the day had appeared on the bed and when he'd retired for the night, he'd found the tub empty and his nightclothes also readied for him. He'd not seen Merlin even once that entire day and yet all of his needs had been seen to.

The same routine had continued for 2 more days but on the third day, Merlin had reappeared, blank faced and perfectly polite and correct in all his duties. He'd spoken only when spoken to and then only gave monosyllabic answers when absolutely necessary. This behavior continued for almost a week before Arthur exploded, screamed, yelled and thrown a thoroughly royal temper tantrum. He'd grabbed Merlin then and kissed him until the sorcerer had given in and they'd torn each other's clothes off and fucked in such a frenzy that afterward neither could even sit up, let alone walk.

Merlin had stayed with him that night and they'd finally had a rational conversation about their future. Merlin wasn't happy about it. He'd finally be publicly recognized for all his contributions to the kingdom and made the official Court Sorcerer. He'd stand by Arthur's side as they fulfilled the destiny Arthur finally believed in. He'd be his King's closest, most trusted adviser, his best friend and he would help heal the wounds inflicted on the magical community by Uther, However, he would never again be the only thing he ever really wanted to be. He'd never again be Arthur's lover.

That was the night before the feast to celebrate and formalize Arthur and Gwen's engagement. It was the last time Merlin would wake beside his King, the last time he'd help him dress for an event. The last time he'd ever know Arthur's touch, his arms around him and his lover's lips on his just before they proceeded from Arthur's chambers to the feast. After that, he had ceased to exist for the King of Camelot.

Though his memories of Merlin had been back with him for several days now, he hadn't been able to sort through them all. He hadn't realized before that moment, the _timing_ of Gwen's intervention. _My God, that must have crushed Merlin! Just hours after I made all those promises, I stopped even acknowledging his very existence. He must have thought I was playing the cruelest of games with him. One night making love to him, making those promises and the next...nothing, not a word, not a glance, nothing! Had Merlin attempted to talk to me only to have me look_ through _him as if he was a ghost, invisible, unseen and of no importance at all? Oh my God, what must he have thought of me? He must hate me!_

Suddenly Arthur felt ill. He closed his eyes briefly, feeling a rush of salt water in his mouth. The few bites he'd managed to eat threatened to rise from the fierce cramping of his stomach. He drew a deep breath, desperately trying to keep his gorge from rising. He could feel the sweat popping out on his brow with the effort.

"Sire, are you all right? You look...I don't know, you look... pale,"

Arthur shuddered as he felt Merlin's touch for the first time since that last night, so very very long ago. The mage had placed a concerned hand on his own. His skin was still velvet soft but it sent an electric shock through Arthur's over-excited nerve endings and he began trembling.

"Aeson, Aeson! I don't think the King is well! He's cold, sweating, trembling and pale as a fish belly!"

"I'm all right, I think...I think I just need to lie down for a bit. I'm sure I'll be fine. P...please, ex...excuse me, I'm sure I'll see you all at the feast tonight."

With that, Arthur rose shakily from his barely touched meal and with Aeson by his side, he departed for the Royal Suite.

Merlin and Gwaine exchanged looks and both shrugged in concerned confusion. The mage sent the Court Sorcerer an inquiring look but she simply shook her head, folded her bottom lip under her upper and also shrugged. No one present seemed to understand what had just happened to the High King. The presence of the children made verbal speculation unwise so they all decided to shelve the issue for the time being.

Merlin took his plate and stole Aeson's spot beside his husband. With that small shift in position, the meal, aside from Mairead's presence, was transformed into one like any of a hundred other family meals they'd shared over the years.

Mairead watched the most powerful sorcerer in all of Albion playing games with his small children and smiled. She'd not seen Merlin since the day he'd asked her to take the position of Court Sorcerer and she couldn't help but be pleased at the differences she noted.

When the legendary Emrys had appeared in their nomadic Druid encampment, everyone had clamored to meet him. She'd been expecting someone imposing, someone who's power would shine from him unmistakably, someone tall and strong and heroic looking. The only way he measured up to her fantasy image of the legend was that he _was_ tall. However, he didn't look powerful or impressive. He was dressed in the basest of homespun peasant clothing, which seemed to hang on his over-thin frame. His face, well, he looked fragile and ethereal, not powerful and reassuring. He looked haggard and haunted, though she could see in his facial bone structure a beauty that she suspected had been ravaged by stress and unhappiness. His posture had been that of a much older man, an old man, a man who's back has been bowed by a life time of work and worry.

Now, that elusive beauty she'd been sure was hiding beneath pasty skin and bruised, tired eyes, was fully restored and while he still didn't look imposing or impressive, he did exude a quiet air of power, confidence and serenity. Now his ethereal appearance was radiant and his power shimmered through the surface of translucent ivory skin. To any eyes that had magic, Emrys glowed as if the sun itself was lodged beneath his skin. To those without any power, that glow was muted to something more ephemeral, almost celestial and very, very reassuring. She'd seen it in the eyes of everyone they'd encountered today, a small shock of awe, then an obvious reverence and finally a beatific smile as if Merlin's mere presence brought lightness and joy in it's wake. The only exception was the King who'd looked at the sorcerer with the desperation of a man three days in the dessert with no water who's suddenly stumbled upon an oasis only to be turned away, back to the burning sand. Arthur was burning and Mairead feared there would be no shelter for him.

The question that kept coming back to her was, why now? In all her time at Arthur's side, he'd never spoken Merlin's name, he'd never acknowledged any mention of him or the great deeds performed on his behalf by Emry's. That in and of itself had been a puzzle no one could answer. Everyone in Albion knew of Merlin. Every citizen knew that their peaceful, united kingdom could never have come into existence without his aid, without his power backing Arthur's earthly authority. Every mage of good intent was grateful for his guidance and protective vigilance. Every sorcerer of the dark rightly feared his power, feared his wrath and the scrutiny of his justice. How was it that Arthur could so coldly ignore all of that?

She wondered if she'd ever know the answer to that distressing question. However, one thing was clear. The cold days of disacknowledgment and oblivion were over. Now, Merlin was the only thing Arthur _could_ see and she had no idea what that meant for the King or the kingdom. As always, she would stay, serve, observe and try to keep everything glued together until Arthur's attention returned to his realm and its people.

* * *

Arthur allowed Aeson to accompany him back to his chambers all the while reassuring the man that he felt fine, just very tired. Once he'd reached his door though, he shooed the physician away, informed the guards at his door that he was not to be disturbed unless he called for his manservant and made his way slowly into his bedchamber.

Collapsed on the bed, Arthur curled into the fetal position and shuddered. The memories were overwhelming him again. The mistakes he made, His arrogance. His belief in his divine destiny. His utter hubris, his downfall. He'd called Merlin an idiot thousands of times never realizing that it was _he_ who truly was the idiot. How many times had he ignored Merlin's advice, his counsel, even his pleas for Arthur to trust him, to listen to him? Even when he'd known of Merlin's magic, it never truly impacted on how he saw his friend and lover. In his eyes Merlin was always a sweet, loving, loyal, inappropriately protective fool.

 _you must learn to listen. You must learn to listen. You Must learn to listen. You Must Learn to listen. You Must Learn To listen. You Must Learn To Listen. YOU. MUST. LEARN. TO. LISTEN._

The words, Merlin's words, spoken so many years ago echoed in his brain over and over as he lay prone on the sumptuous covers of his cold royal bed. How many years was it now? Fifteen? Sixteen? Somehow he'd heard him speak the words but the meaning never penetrated his thick skull so many other times, he let the mage's speech slide by without examination. He never _had_ learned to listen to the one person he should have paid most heed to. Yet, even when cast aside, Merlin hadn't abandoned him. He'd taken himself away, yes but he'd made sure to look after Arthur and Albion from afar. He'd sent his power, his spirit to aid his High King at every challenge. He'd never stopped being Arthur's protector. _He'd_ never abandoned his promise. "I'm happy to be your servant, till the day I die." He hadn't died and he'd kept on serving even when that service went not only unacknowledged but also unnoticed.

Thinking about Merlin's unswerving loyalty to the promise he'd made just twisted Arthur's guts even more. It wasn't his fault that he'd been ignorant of Merlin's role in his life but guilt still gnawed at him; was eating him up from the inside. There was the guilt and also there was the anger. Anger that clawed at his soul and sapped his self-control. The desire to rend and destroy, to scream at the heavens, to tear down everything he saw before him was pulsing in his skull. He was angry with Gwen for making him forget, he was angry with Gwaine for having everything that he wanted so badly but mostly he was angry at himself for putting in motion the events that led to his current state of despair. His choices had been the root of this thorn bush that was his life. There were no roses to balance out those razor sharp points of pain, just barren, black briers.

He closed his eyes but sleep wouldn't come. Just memories, regrets and the nauseating pain in his gut that hadn't left him since he'd swallowed that tiny gulp of sparkling fluid. The cure for the curse. What a laugh! In this case the cure truly was worse than the disease. At least the tremors and cold sweats had stopped. He tried his best not to think of Merlin sitting with his family in Arthur's own dining room. He ground his teeth thinking about Merlin, Gwaine and their fairy-tale family. When he'd gotten the message that Merlin was coming but he was bringing not only his husband but their children as well, it hadn't occurred to Arthur how painful it would be to look on them all together. All he'd been able to think about was Merlin. He certainly hadn't expected all his children to look so much like him, to smile like him, to have that same glow to their hair and eyes and skin. It _hurt_ to look at them. It hurt so badly, slicing him with a pain he'd made no preparation for. He'd steeled himself to look on Merlin with Gwaine but those damnably beautiful children struck at all the chinks in his mental armor and pierced him with poniards sharp and poisonous.

 _If I'd just learned to listen, they could have all been mine._ I _threw it all away long before Gwen made me forget. I thought I could have it all. Merlin by my side, a Queen that pleased my people, children to inherit my Kingdom but a decade later I have nothing._ He couldn't stop the venomous little voice that added, _Gwaine has it all. Everything that_ should _have been mine, he made his._ Then the circle began again. _He only picked up what I threw away._ He _recognized the jewel I tossed in the dustbin, the treasure that I never learned to appreciate until it was far, far too late. Oh God, what do I do now? I need him! I need him so badly, I can't go on alone knowing what I know now._

 _First, I need to tell him about Gwen, show him the letter, let him know I didn't willingly abandon him. Then I can go from there. There has to be a way for us, there has to be! He always said we were the two sides of the same coin. That doesn't go away, no matter how long the parting and no matter how many blasted brats he's had with Gwaine!_

He thought of how Merlin kept his infant daughter literally tied to his chest and his heart clenched. _He didn't want to give her up to the nanny, I could see it in his eyes. He didn't want her out of his sight, out of his hands._ Then he thought with dark humour, _I wonder how long it's been since Gwaine got any. Probably not since the little one was born. How could he when Merlin keeps her tied around his neck?_

Somehow that was a tiny comfort. Surprisingly, Gwaine's actions were also a comfort to him, little did the other king know it. By challenging Arthur so blatantly he had also broadcast his own doubts and fears. He saw Arthur as a real threat. That meant he was not as sure of Merlin's affections as he'd like everyone to believe.

It was enough to slow his pounding heart. He was exhausted. Despite, Aeson's best efforts he hadn't slept more than a few hours together since the day he drank that damned potion. He told himself there was still hope and managed to drift off for a few hours of troubled sleep, waking just in time to dress for the feast to officially welcome the visiting royals.

* * *

The Feast had gone much more smoothly than the earlier dinner had. Without the children present to distract him, Arthur was able to perform all his kingly duties with a clearer head. He was still frustrated by the public venue though. There was no way to engage Merlin in the conversation he needed. He was only able to wring an agreement to a private meeting the following morning. He noted Gwaine tense and bristle at his husband's compliance with this request and felt a bit better.

Arthur had also found he was unable to keep his hands completely to himself. Whilst he didn't do anything inappropriate, he did manage to brush hands with Merlin several times and had clasped both his arms upon meeting as he had with Gwaine earlier. Throughout the evening, he found his hand reaching out to touch the sorcerer's arm or shoulder to capture his attention when it wandered. Each brush of his skin against Merlin's warmth sent a delicious frisson of awareness through him and each small touch was a balm to the ache in his soul.

Watching the reaction from the warlock's royal husband was just a bonus. Gwaine seethed every time he caught Arthur engage in yet another "casual" touch. There was little the other King could do though in light of the fact that no lines of etiquette were breached. If those fleeting tactile encounters lingered a bit longer than necessary, it still didn't wander outside the boundaries of acceptable courtly flirting.

Unfortunately, Arthur was unable to detect if his subtle advances were having any affect on their intended subject. Merlin smiled and made very polite conversation and reacted in no way whatsoever to all of it. He neither recoiled from nor leaned into any of the High King's advances. He was frustratingly self-contained and unflappable. His lack of reaction was so different from the Merlin that Arthur now remembered. The ruler of Albion was completely stymied.

When the visiting royals had withdrawn from the feast late that night, so did Arthur. Without Merlin's presence there was no point in lingering. When he finally lay in his bed that night, Arthur was grateful for one small mercy. Sleep came swiftly for the first time in weeks. His dreams were filled with gleaming sapphire eyes that flashed gold, long, slender limbs sheathed in soft alabaster skin and a beloved voice that called out his name in needy want.

* * *

Gwaine was not as fortunate in his sleep as his King was. He'd spent the evening seething at the blatant way Arthur kept letting his hands wander over _his_ husband

He was also more than a little hurt at the way Merlin had swiftly agreed to a private meeting with his former lover without so much as a glance at Gwaine for his approval. Granted, had it been anyone other than Arthur, he never would have expected Merlin to seek his approval for a simple meeting. However, the circumstances were hardly usual and all of Gwaine's insecurities were screaming at him, every nerve on red alert. Merlin knew how hard this was on his husband. Could he not have, just this once, acted with a little less independence?

He kept his mouth shut though, the last thing he wanted to do was alienate Merlin whilst within these particular walls. He'd never been especially possessive as a partner and he didn't really want to broadcast his deepening paranoia and fear to his beloved. He knew it wouldn't help the situation. Instead he focused his attention on physically demonstrating his affection, indulging Merlin in a full-body massage and an unusually tender session of love making. His husband's eager and genuine responses were comforting but his fears lingered long after his black haired love fell asleep in his arms.

The Lothian King decided he'd try to persuade Merlin to bring him along to his "private" meeting in the morning. Hopefully the sorcerer would be amenable to reassuring his painfully insecure spouse but Gwaine knew he'd have to come off more pathetic than angry. Gods knew Merlin could be as stubborn as a mule when his back was up. If he were to display the rage he felt towards Arthur to Merlin, his husband would probably take it badly, seeing in his anger a mistrust of himself rather than of the High King. It wasn't the first time in his life Gwaine had hidden his jealousy of Arthur but it had been years since he'd had to. It was the first time since his wedding that he'd needed to.

He spent several more hours brooding before sleep claimed him that night. When Merlin attempted to wake him later in the morning, he rolled onto his face and burrowed further into the pillows. His husband looked down at him with a smile and decided to allow him to sleep until he woke naturally. After all, for once Gwaine had no appointments pending, why not let him sleep late this one time?

By the time the King of Lothian woke, his husband was gone. Merlin had gone to meet Arthur and he had slipped away silently in the early hours to do so. He struggled not to feel bereft and abandoned but a trickle of despair crept into his heart none the less.

* * *


	7. Chapter 7

Arthur was up with the dawn and was bathed and clothed less than an hour later. He then proceeded to drive himself crazy fussing in front of his mirror as badly as any lady primping for a feast. Finally he abandoned this pursuit, reminding himself Merlin had seen him in every possible state of dishabille prior to their separation. Cursing himself for the fool he was, he paced back and forth across his bedchamber impatiently awaiting the other man's arrival.

He had Gwen's letter in hand as well as the potion bottle she'd left behind. It had taken some persuasion on his part to get Mairead to give that back to him. She had only relented when he assured her he only wanted it so that he could give it to Merlin. Since the restoration of his memory, it had come to his note what reverence his Court Sorceress held "Emrys" in. He had wanted to grill her for information about the Warlock but he hadn't wanted to reveal what had been done to him. At least, he hadn't wanted to reveal it to anyone else before he saw Merlin and explained it to him. This was his only chance to soften his beloved's heart. He needed to tell him alone, without anyone else's interpretation colouring the explanation.

Eventually, there was a knock on the door to his outer chamber. He called out his permission to enter and was pleased his voice held steady despite his nervousness. His manservant called out, "His Royal Highness, the King-Consort, Merlin of Lothian and Orkney also known as the Great High Sorcerer, Emrys". Merlin was already in the room clasping arms with Arthur when the additional title was announced. He rolled his eyes slightly as his druid name was proclaimed and Arthur couldn't help but grin at his former friend and lover.

"It just sounds so poncey when they read it all out like that," griped the blue eyed mage.

"You should hear it when they read out all of my 'official' titles," Arthur returned as he waved a hand to dismiss the hovering servants, "Takes a bloody eternity!"

"I don't wish to be disturbed unless there is a dire emergency, " he added aside to his body-servant as the man was closing the doors to leave the two Royals alone.

"Well, it's your own fault for garnering so many soubriquets. I hate it when they add that High Sorcerer garbage. I'm not even sure when they started it or who was responsible!"

This statement provided Arthur with an opening he had been struggling to create in his mind since the moment he'd set up this meeting.

"I'm sorry to say it wasn't me. Until a few days ago, I wasn't even aware you existed, let alone were responsible for my current position as the "High King of Albion".

The tall, slender warlock stopped dead in his tracks and his already milk pale complexion whitened nearly to ash. His mouth had dropped open slightly and his large ocean blue eyes blew impossibly wide.

"Wha...what? What do you mean, you didn't know I existed? That's not funny, Arthur! It's cruel beyond anything I've ever deserved! How can you even say that? You may not have wanted to acknowledge me all these years but..."

"I'm not being cruel Merlin and I am not taunting you in any way. I swear it's the truth," he cut off the mage before he could further expound on Arthur's supposed callousness.

"How is that possible, Arthur?" His voice was tightly controlled but the blonde man could hear the anger that filled each word.

"It was an enchantment. One that came from a source no one ever could have, ever would have suspected."

Mutely he held out Gwen's letter to the iron-jawed sorcerer. The other man took the parchment with trembling fingers and began to read it. After a few moments he collapsed into a nearby chair as tears began to spill from the rippling surface of his eyes. He furiously dashed the silver rivulets from the high, sharp curves of his cheeks.

"Oh, Gwen, no! No! Not you, please, not you!"

Arthur felt his own shattered heart grind into yet smaller pieces as he saw Merlin's distress over Gwen's harsh betrayal. Gwen had once been his closest friend, that she was the architect of his deepest anguish was almost as harsh a blow to the mage as his lover's presumed abandonment had been. His streaming eyes sought Arthur's azure gaze.

"Oh Gods, Arthur! I thought...I thought you didn't want me anymore! I never...how could I? Oh, Gwen!"

The highest man in the land knelt before the sobbing sorcerer. He reached out and gathered Merlin into his arms and held him close, the letter falling to the floor as the embrace was fiercely returned.

"I never knew she felt that way! I never knew! How could she do that? Why would she do that? How could I not see it? How did _none_ of us see it?"

Swallowing deeply, moisture beginning to soak his own cheeks again, Arthur held the shaking man to his chest. He threaded his fingers into Merlin's soft, shining, ebony hair. Tearing sobs ripped from deep within each of them as they clung together.

Voice shaking, Arthur crooned softly, "How could you know? No one suspected she harbored such a secret. I was so arrogant, it never occurred to me that she wasn't jealous of you but of me! She was your friend, how could you have known she would do such a thing?"

"I'm so sorry, Arthur! I'm so sorry I didn't see what she'd done to you! I'm supposed to be this all-powerful sorcerer but I missed something as simple as a curse of oblivion! Oh Gods, it's all my fault!"

A new anguish squeezed the King's heart at the other man's words. He should have known his Merlin would blame _himself_ for this debacle. The most blameless of them all, he would naturally assume responsibility because that's the way he was. The entire world was his burden.

"No, no! Don't you dare, don't you dare do that!" He pulled back and framed Merlin's face with his large callused hands. He met the sapphirine gaze head on with his own lighter blue orbs. "Don't you ever think you were responsible for this! If anyone is to blame it was me for creating the whole blasted situation. If I'd only listened to you, valued you as I should have, she never would have had the chance to do us this injury."

"But I should have seen it! I should have known you wouldn't break your promises so lightly, so cruelly! You were always a man of your word, you never made me any false vows before that day. I should have known that wasn't you!"

"You were hurting. I may not have made you any false promises but I _was_ cruel. I was a bloody selfish bastard to try and keep you around while I married someone else. It was unforgivable arrogance to expect you to stand aside for another and still stay with me."

"I would have. You know I would have!"

Arthur nodded in shame knowing it was true. Merlin never would have left his side, would have contented himself with the scraps from Arthur's table. He'd have smiled through his own pain and done what he saw as his responsibility.

"I know but I still hurt you and you were the last person in the world who deserved that from my hand. You were not to blame for what she did. She was right, I would not have remained faithful had you stayed. I'd have betrayed you both because you are half of my soul and all of my heart."

He brought his head down and pressed his lips to Merlin's as they both knelt on the floor, holding on to each other as one drowning clings to a rock in the Maelstrom. The mage's soft lips parted for him and welcomed his tongue within. Arthur's fingers tightened in Merlin's hair as he deepened the kiss and was met only by the other man's soft tongue, twisting desperately around his own. He felt the long slender hands clutching him tightly, fisting the fine fabric of his tunic. He continued to hold the slender, yet well-muscled body to him with one hand whilst the other cradled the back of his beloved's head as they kissed over and over, each drinking deeply of the other as they hadn't in over a decade.

Arthur trembled as he felt Merlin's hands at his waist, tugging the knot of his belt apart. He shuddered in delight as long, slim fingers slipped beneath the fabric barrier and dragged along his fever-hot skin. Suddenly he felt Merlin surge up against him urgently, tipping him back slightly as the other man climbed up and straddled his waist, long, strong thighs clenching tightly around him. He dropped his hands to gather the sorcerer closer, grinding his hardened cock against the answering hardness of his lover's loins. Hardly knowing what he was doing, he dragged his mouth, teeth and tongue, across Merlin's jaw and down the long length of his ivory throat. Nipping his way down, he nuzzled aside the collar shielding the enticing hollow nestled at the base of that throat and swirled his tongue in the honeyed well.

Merlin's hands were tugging frantically at his tunic and he lifted his arms for a moment and let the ebon-haired man pull the fabric over his head before once again reaching for the flesh he so longed for. Instead, the sorcerer was tipping him back even further as he latched on to Arthur's neck and began nipping and sucking a path from his shoulder to his chest. Stopping to take a pink nipple into his mouth, Merlin smiled as he heard the groan torn from the King's throat. The ivory skinned man continued to nudge the golden blonde in his arms until he had him down on his back on the plush carpet they'd been kneeling on. His nimble fingers made short work of the King's laces and soon he'd freed Arthur's straining cock from it's soft leather prison. A quick flash of gold across sapphire irisses and his own alabaster skin was gleaming bare in the morning sunlight streaming through the open windows.

The blonde man groaned again as his fingers sought and found the mage's cock. A familiar whimper sounded as he wrapped his callused fingers around the throbbing member. He wasn't aware of the moment when the rest of his clothes vanished from his body, he was too lost in the glorious sensation of holding that precious flesh once again. He leaned up and let his mouth and hands, his fingers, tongue and teeth wander over every millimeter of smooth, soft skin he could reach.

His magical lover was doing much the same only with an urgency that seemed to outpace even his own. Before he knew what was happening, Merlin swung himself around, straddling his chest as he swooped down to swallow Arthur's cock whole. The King cried out sharply and bucked his hips involuntarily as he was engulfed in the swirling wet heat of the mage's hungry mouth. He reached out and grasped the rounded half-globes of Merlin's perfect arse, fingers helplessly kneading the buttery soft skin sheathing the firm muscle beneath. Even as he was panting heavily under the energetic ministrations of his lover's hot tongue he marveled at the perfection of the flesh in his hands. Not a single blemish or mark marred the moon-pale skin. He parted the cheeks with his thumbs to reveal the puckered pink entrance to paradise nestled between those quivering hillocks of firm flesh. He was unable to stop himself from lurching upward to sweep his tongue over the tempting pink crease now visible to his hungry eyes.

Merlin keened and leaned back into the tongue pressing against his secret center but never let go of the thick hot cock gripped tightly between his soft lips. Even as he felt the tongue swirling and darting into his own needy flesh, he mirrored the motions with his own tongue, winding it smoothly around the silken length of Arthur's tumescent organ. He finally let go for a moment when he felt a spit slick finger breach his tight hole.

"Yes! Oh, fuck, yes! More, more, I need more, now!"

Using his magic to help ease Arthur's efforts to loosen his opening, he pressed himself hard against the fingers plunging in and out of his fevered flesh. Both men were shaking with excitement, cocks hard and straining for release. Merlin whimpered needily as he pressed himself harder and harder against the fingers plundering his arsehole so deftly.

"Please, oh please, I need you inside me! I need it now, now!"

Arthur grabbed him around the waist and pulled him up, slamming Merlin's back against his chest as he lifted him, helping the shuddering, mewling man position himself above his thick, weeping prick. Both of them gasped simultaneously as the mage slid down, sheathing the King's hard length within his own slick, heated flesh-glove. He lifted himself up and slammed down again, forcing a grunt and hiss of pleasure from his golden lover. He felt pointed teeth grip his shoulder from behind as he ground around hard on the glorious cock imbedded deep in his core. Rolling and rotating his hips he could feel the thick flesh stretching him, the burn exquisite, the pleasure unearthly.

Then he was being pushed forward by the powerful man sheathed in his spasming tunnel. He felt his knees beneath him, strong hands gripping the jutting bones of his narrow hips. The focus of his world narrowed to the diamond hard cock stretching his flesh so deliciously. It withdrew from his heat and he almost screamed in protest before he felt it slam back inside, filling him completely. Then the King was withdrawing again, only to surge back, the swollen shaft forcing the elastic walls of his gripping channel to widen tautly around it. Again and again, Arthur withdrew almost to the tip before pounding his cock hard into his lover's body.

"Faster, oh please, faster! Harder, deeper, gods damn it, fuck me, fu-uck me-ee!"

He cried out when Arthur withdrew completely only to find himself on his back, feet hoisted high over broad shoulders and then he was back again, fisting his cock to Merlin's aching entrance. The panting mage looked up and met the hot blue stare of his lover's eyes as he was filled once again. His mouth opened but this time nothing came out as he rolled his hips to meet Arthur's downward surge. He used the backs of his heels against those thickly muscled shoulders and pulled himself up onto the cock he couldn't get enough of. As the two rolled their hips toward each other, their flesh slapping hard, Arthur licked his palm and brought it to Merlin's hitherto neglected cock. He gripped it firmly as he fucked his wiry partner hard into the thickly carpeted floor.

Allowing the motion of their bodies to dictate the pace he stroked Merlin's long, beautiful shaft. Swiping his thumb over the deep ruby head, he gathered the streaming pre-cum and used it to slick up the heavy cock in his grip. He knew just how much pressure to use to keep the magical creature impaled on his flesh just at the edge of losing control. The black haired man thrashed against him, keening and mewling in ecstasy. He kept them both hard up against that edge, taking them closer and closer with each stroke of his hardened cock in the sorcerer's body. Finally, it was too much for both of them. Arthur felt Merlin clamp down hard around his sensitized flesh even as his hot wet release fountained around his grasping hand and splashed scalding cum on both their bellies. Arthur let go and placed both hands flat against the floor on either side of Merlin's head. He latched onto the panting sorcerer's mouth with his own and pounded furiously into his lover for another 30 seconds before exploding deep inside the still spasming flesh that surrounded him.

He groaned long and loud as his throbbing release ebbed and his cock began to slowly soften. He continued to plunder Merlin's mouth as he slowly lowered his weight straight down on the long slender length of his lover's body. He wrapped the ivory skinned man in his arms and with a last groan of effort, rolled over so that Merlin sprawled safely on top of his solid form. They continued to kiss languorously for several minutes more before exhausted lips parted and they relaxed against each other. The sorcerer slid sideways into the crook of the King's arm and nestled his head against his chest, one long, slender, white arm slung across the golden furred abdomen of his long-lostlover. There were no words, the two had let their bodies speak for them and now there was just the need to rest, to recover from the emotional holocaust. Both royals fell into a tired slumber at almost the same moment.

* * *

Merlin woke first. He first became aware of the strong arm wrapped around him and the warm, hair roughened skin beneath his hand. He nuzzled softly against the broad chest beneath his cheek before realizing it wasn't his husband's chest he was cuddling into. He froze for an instant before memory returned to him. He felt a curl of dread in his stomach as he remembered the last few...hours was it? He honestly had no idea how long he had been with Arthur but he knew that Gwaine was probably going out of his mind by now. He swallowed hard and clenched his eyes tightly for a moment before he opened them. The light streaming through the windows was brighter and streaming in at a much sharper angle than it had been when he'd arrived at the High King's chambers.

He chanced a glance up at Arthur's face and saw that it was still relaxed in slumber. He felt a pang upon noticing how much the King's color had improved, how relaxed he was and how _happy_ he looked, even as deeply asleep as he was. Dear Gods, what had he done? He'd been so blown away by Arthur's revelations, so devastated by the news of Gwen's betrayal and so tortured by the thought that he'd missed the curse she'd placed on the man it was _his_ responsibility to protect that he'd completely lost control of himself. When his first love had wrapped his strong arms around him, a decade had disappeared. Such was his distress that he'd responded blindly to the man he hadn't been with for so long. His beloved husband forgotten in an almost fugue-like frenzy of need.

Now though, he was back in his right mind and it wasn't Arthur he was longing for, it was Gwaine. He wasn't going to deny that finally knowing exactly _why_ he'd been cast aside all those years ago had healed something inside him. Something that he'd denied, even to himself, was still broken. He even acknowledged that he'd needed that physical act to complete the healing process. However, for him it only brought closure in its wake. That chapter in his life could finally be ended, the cliffhanger was resolved. He was certain though, that it wouldn't be like that for Arthur.

He still loved him, he always would. There was a bond there that had never really been broken. But as he'd assured Gwaine, he wasn't in love with Arthur any more. He just hoped his former lover could forgive him for what he was going to do to him. He wanted Arthur in his life again but only as the friend he had started out as. Could the blonde King accept that? He loved his life now, he loved his husband deeply, as deeply as he'd ever loved Arthur. However, life with Gwaine was so much sweeter, so much fuller. He would always be there for Albion and for its High King but he was devoted whole-heartedly to his family. There was no longer any room in his life for Arthur. Would he understand that?

He sighed softly. He hoped Gwaine would forgive him for this as well. He would do his best to explain to him why this had happened. He had no intention of hiding it and he had no intention of _ever_ repeating it.

* * *

Arthur watched Merlin, Gwaine, their children and their servants gather in the courtyard below. He couldn't bring himself to say goodbye again, couldn't bear to see the triumph in Gwaine's eyes as he took Merlin away, so far away to the north. He'd failed, as his heart had feared he would. Too much time had passed. Merlin had everything he wanted in Gwaine, their children and their kingdom. Everything Arthur had so carelessly thrown away so many years ago.

When he'd woken yesterday, in the early hours after noon, Merlin had been snuggled in his arms. He'd closed his eyes again and sent his thanks skyward that he had his love back, that he was there in his arms as he awoke. When he'd opened them again he'd looked down into Merlin's deep ocean blue eyes and known immediately that he was wrong. Yes, he was still there in his arms but he could see the apology waiting there in that deep blue gaze.

He'd cried openly as Merlin explained. He didn't do it to make the mage feel guilty, he simply couldn't stop himself. All his hopes and dreams lay in ashes at his feet. He didn't blame Merlin, he didn't even blame Gwen anymore. His enmity towards Gwaine was gone, though the envy would always linger. He knew whose fault this all was. Gwen had reminded him in her letter that he was the one who had set this tragedy in motion when he'd rejected Merlin for her. There was no other person on whom he could settle the blame for his downfall. He was the architect of all.

Merlin had allowed him one last, long, lingering embrace before he left the King's chambers to return to his husband. He'd renewed his pledge to always lend his services should Arthur require them. He'd also extended his hope of a renewal of their old friendship whenever Arthur was ready to accept it. As ever, the sorcerer was the soul of gentle kindness and selfless generosity. He'd left Arthur with a kiss to the forehead, a benediction, forgiveness. As he saw the pain and regret in the High King's eyes, he'd added one last thing.

"Please forgive yourself, Arthur. You made mistakes but you weren't the only one who did. Forgive yourself and move on."

He'd smiled gently as he turned away and slipped from the room. The soft click of the door-latch had sounded like the clanging slam of a prison cell door to Arthur's ears. He'd skipped supper that night, unable to deal with the sight of Merlin surrounded by his family. Mairead had stopped by and he'd haltingly told her of what had transpired. Thankfully, she hadn't plied him with pity or cloying words of hollow comfort. Instead she had simply nodded her head at the conclusion of his tale and said "I'm sorry for your loss, my Lord."

"So am I. Thank you, Mairead, you've been a good friend to me all these years. I deeply appreciate it. I find I am in sore need of friends these days."

"I think you'll find you have more of them than you realize, my Liege. Just reach out and you may be surprised who reaches back."

She'd smiled at him then and left him to his ruminations.

Now as he watched, his Merlin rode slowly towards the castle gates. He turned once and stared up to where Arthur watched from his open window. He raised a hand in farewell and Arthur returned the gesture. Then with a swirl of his black cape, he turned and spurred his horse forward to catch up with the rest of his family as they rode out through the gates into the city beyond and out of Arthur's life once again.

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is the end of the story as such. There is a gratuitously fluffy Epilogue if you are so inclined. If you'd like to leave this story in it's current bittersweet state, don't read the next part. I asked for feedback from my FF.net readers about whether or not they wanted the fluffy epilogue and they generally gave the idea a thumbs up so I published it. It's not really needed for the integrity of the tale.


	8. Epilogue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warning:** For such a bittersweet story, this has a shamefully fluffy ending. If you'd prefer to keep your own ideas on what happened after the last chapter, then **don't** read this one. I had so many wonderful responses from readers and a lot of in-put on what they were hoping for in this epilogue that honestly, I'm more than a little sad I couldn't satisfy them all.

"Mairead has had a girl!" Merlin's voice rang out from the door to the King's study. He looked up at his beloved's face, shining with happiness and he couldn't help the answering grin that lit up his own visage.

"That's wonderful! How's the nervous papa?"

"He's fine now that both his wife and child are safe."

"Did you ever think you'd see this day?"

"I'd certainly hoped for it! Especially once the announcement of her pregnancy was made."

"No! I meant Arthur, a father!"

"Ah, that. Well, you see, I did a bit of research a few years ago and found an indication something like this might happen some day."

"You're kidding?"

Merlin's impish grin stretched widely across his narrow face.

"Nope. I'm not the only one the Druids have prophesies about you know."

"Well, no, I didn't know that but it makes sense. Didn't feel it important enough to mention to me?"

"Not really. Those prophesies are wrong as often as they are right and any action, however seemingly insignificant can change the course of the future. What the Druids see isn't set in stone, no matter how much they'd like everyone to believe it is. I think even Kilgharrah is still pouting over his own doom-saying coming to nothing."

While he was speaking, Merlin drifted over to his husband's side. Gwaine pushed his chair back and pulled the smiling sorcerer into his lap.

"What doom-saying was that?"

"Oh Gods, it was years and years ago. I think I'd been in Camelot less than a year when I helped rescue a very young Druid boy from Uther's men. Kilgharrah told me if I helped the boy escape that Arthur and I would never unite the Kingdom and Albion would never exist. Well, it's been about fourteen years since the last hold-out swore fealty to Arthur and no vengeful Druid boys have returned to kill him."

"No but one black-haired sorcerer nearly finished him off."

Merlin looked at his husband quizzically. "What on earth are you on about? There haven't been any magical attempts on his life since I warded him seventeen years ago! Well, at least none that got through."

"I'm talking about you, you adorable obliviate!"

"Oh. That. Well, he wouldn't have _died_ per se."

"Yes he did, Love. Thankfully he had someone there to pick up the pieces."

"Just like I did. Have I told you how incredible you are?"

"Not today you haven't but I'll take that as the day's first"

Gwaine flashed his rogue's smile at the man in his lap before thoroughly kissing him. His mind flashed back to that day six years ago when he thought he'd lost Merlin back to Arthur. Waking up to find him gone that morning had been one of the worst moments of his life. The look on his husband's face when he'd returned, it had nearly stopped Gwaine's heart, the guilt on Merlin's face. In that moment he'd been certain his husband was going to tell him that he'd decided to stay with his former lover. Instead he'd told him of Gwen's curse and his own journey to closure.

He had been hurt when Merlin had admitted to shagging Arthur in the heat of the moment but he'd also been incredibly relieved when he understood it to be an action of farewell. The hurt had lingered awhile, as had the fear but time had proved out Merlin's assertions that he only wanted Gwaine. The final stake in the heart of his jealous pain had come in the form of Merlin's joy when Arthur and Mairead had married just over a year ago. His genuine happiness at their union settled any lingering doubts lurking in Gwaine's heart. He no longer feared Merlin had only _settled_ for him and returned with him out of duty to their children.

"So what _did_ that prophesy state?"

"Um, well, it was along the lines of 'the Son of Magic's Enemy would marry Magic and the land would be barren no more' or something to that effect."

"Hmph! I see why you didn't mention it."

Merlin gave him a slightly sheepish smile.

"I knew you'd interpret it that way, Love. It seemed better I keep that one to myself."

The King sighed and held his Consort closer, pressing another kiss to those delicious raspberry lips.

"Yes, it would have only added to my paranoia."

"Your _unfounded_ paranoia."

Gwaine gazed at him for a long silent moment before nodding slowly. He wasn't sure his fears had been so unfounded but he wasn't about to argue the point, not when he had everything he ever wanted nestled in his arms at that very moment.

"I have another surprise for you, Love."

"Hmm? What's that?"

"We're going to have another chance for those doe-eyes of yours to be preserved for posterity!"

"Oi! I told you, I don't have doe eyes! I'm not a girl, I have...whoa! What? You're pregnant _again_?"

Merlin nodded vigorously, his shiny black hair bouncing. A beatific grin and glowing sapphire eyes accompanied his confirmation.

"I think it's going to be another girl, too! Just think, a lovely little girl with your big brown doe-eyes!"

The King of Lothian and Orkney looked at his husband's shining face and sent a prayer skyward that this time Merlin got his wish for a brown eyed child or they might end up with a dozen children e'er he gave up the quest! Then again, he really couldn't think of any downsides to the idea...

* * *

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> OK, I warned you all it was a shamelessly fluffy cheese-fest! I know some of you were hoping for a long, detailed epilogue or a more dramatic ending to the story. I toyed with the idea of changing it due to several of those requests, thus the long delay in posting this. However, in the end I decided to go with my original. I hope you all aren't too disappointed.


End file.
